Falling For You
by Hate Finding Usernames
Summary: On the worst day of life, Beca meets a boy who becomes inexplicably entangled in her life. And she's happy with her nerdy best friend, right up until this Iris chick starts to mess it all up at college, and Beca realises that Jesse might have taught her a little bit more than either of them expected. [AU]
1. The Park Meeting

**Starting a new story should not be what I'm doing right now, but it is so... Yeah, welcome all!**

**I can't promise this will updated with any form of regularity, but I'm pretty inspired by this idea so you never know. I still have my other main story to write as well as my oneshots, so yes, lots going on, but I'm going to do my best.**

**There are some references in here to Rocket Science (an AK movie, which is pretty damn awesome so check it out) so disclaimer for that as well as the usual PP disclaimer.**

**I hope you all enjoy this; let me know what you think if you have any opinions on it!**

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**1 – THE PARK MEETING**

They met on the day she was at her worst.

At fifteen years old, Beca was supposed to doing a number of things. Crushing on guys, having sleepovers with her best friends, sneaking alcohol out of her parents' liquor cabinet, staying up late and just being a general teenager. That was normal, right?

Beca had never really been normal, though.

Sure, she was a good person. She just didn't fit into the stereotype. She was more reserved than most of the girls in her school, and she didn't like to play up to the drama they were so addicted to. Beca had no desire to be a bitch surrounded by bitches. And because she wasn't, a lot of guys didn't look at her. She didn't really care, honestly. They were all immature and too vain to ever actually care. She did the rest of it, though. She just did it alone.

Okay, not always alone. Her neighbour Kimmy Jin would sometimes join her, and they would sit in a comfortable silence on either side of a large hole in the fence that separated their houses. The chosen bottle would be passed between them and together, they would get drunk alone.

She was happy. She didn't need anything else. Her love for music was the only best friend she needed; it was her crutch. It was her heart and soul. She was content.

But sometimes, even her music couldn't drown out the fighting.

Her parents had never gotten along. Beca couldn't remember a time when they had ever been happy; even at the holidays; they couldn't pull it together to give her one good day. Beca didn't know any different, but it was actually possible to miss what you never had. Sometimes, when she was at her drunkest, she would wish on the invisible stars above that her parents would just… Stop.

Her wish came true three months before her sixteenth birthday.

She sensed it before she walked around the bend in the road that bought her house into view. There was something different, like when someone changes the colour settings on the TV but you can't quite figure out _why_ it's different. She stepped cautiously, like trying to get through a minefield, and when she slid her key into the lock, it wouldn't open the door. She looked around to check she had gotten the right house, because every house on her road was a perfect duplicate of the others, but she knew she had.

She peered through the window and it was then she noticed what was wrong. She pulled the earphones out and there it was; silence. No shouting, no yelling, no smashing. Her house was perfectly still.

And then she saw other things that were missing. Her dad's collectible book collection, his ugly vintage train on the mantel, any picture he was in – all gone. It was like he had been deleted from the universe and not a single trace was left. Not even his coffee mug from that morning, the one he always leaves on the arm of the sofa, much to her mother's great annoyance.

Unable to process what was so perfectly obvious, she did an abrupt turn and began to run.

Beca had no idea how long or how far she ran. All she knew was that she found herself in a park, and it was dark, and she was very, very alone. She wished she was at the hole in the fence with Kimmy Jin, sharing a bottle of tequila. At least then she could be drunk and alone.

But no. In that park, she was alone and stone cold sober.

Music did little to comfort her as she wandered aimlessly across the large grass area. For the first time in her life, it wasn't enough, because it didn't stop her mind from buzzing with everything that had happened, how suddenly her life had changed. Yes, she hated her parents. She hated how they fought, how they had so little time for her, how they wouldn't just _give up_.

But now they had, and she already missed the noise of it all.

At midnight she found herself at the children's play area. Linkin Park blared through her earphones and she circled around the entire area, following the iron fencing, taking in the area so many children had so many good memories. She had never had many of those. Her parents were too busy fighting to ever take her to the park.

Beca found herself drawn to the monkey bars, to how freeing they seemed to be, and she dumped her backpack at the bottom of it, wiggling her fingers slightly before jumping to the first one and bending her legs towards her chest so she could just hang, swinging lazily to her own beat. The movement pulled her earphones out but she couldn't bring herself to care; she found the perfect silence comforting, like she was the only person left in the world and in that moment, she could just… Be.

She swung herself harder and managed to loop her leg around the top bar, and she pulled herself up so she was sitting on top of the structure. It wasn't high, only five feet she guessed, but it still made her feel strangely uplifted. Powerful. Capable. It was nice, and she felt her face morphing into a small smile.

"You know you're not supposed to be up – Woah!"

The deep voice caught her so off guard, wrapped up as she was in her self-comforting little bubble, that she jumped enough to lose her balance, and she slipped from her precarious position, her fall cushioned by – well, another person, apparently.

Quickly jumping to her feet, she brushed herself off and looked down at the boy that had both risked and saved her life (not that the fall would have killed her, but still) as he just lay there in surprise, looking up at her with dark eyes. He was tall, enough to be easily around her age, but she didn't recognise him. His hair was curly, long enough to cover most of his forehead, and when he realised she wasn't going to help him up, he grinned at her like an eight year old.

Great. He was one of _those_.

"Sorry I scared you," he said in a tone that suggested he was anything but. He jumped up to his feet and his eyes flickered across her body, but it didn't seem like he was ogling her. She wondered if he was, in fact, checking for injuries.

"Should be," she muttered, crossing her arms in a huff.

"You okay?"

"Fine." She pursed her lips and she turned her gaze to a barely discernible tree behind him. "You?"

"Great." She could hear the amusement in his voice and she fought hard against the need to roll her eyes.

He was taking her in, looking at her posture and her blatant avoidance to register him at all. She could feel his eyes on her and she shifted her weight to her other foot, trying to figure out a way to leave before this whole thing got more awkward.

"You want to share the bottle?"

Turning to him in surprise, she saw he was standing there with his messenger bag open, the neck of a bottle in his grip as he showed it to her. _Damnit_. The one thing that could make her consider staying and he had it.

"Wow. This feels like a safe situation," she deadpanned.

"I promise it's not drugged." He offered out his little finger and she raised a judging eyebrow at him. "It's not even been opened yet. See for yourself." He retracted his hand only to present it again a few seconds later, the bottle held towards her. She bit her lip, her mind divided between what she should do, and she stepped hesitantly closer, just enough so she could stretch out her arm to take the offering.

Indeed it was unopened, and she glanced up at him, standing innocently in front of her, trying to figure out whether to trust this strange boy that had scared her half to death. Something about the way he looked at her, about the way he seemed so _harmless_, made her break the seal and take a swig from the vodka bottle, her eyes never leaving his challenging stare.

She hated how he looked so victorious.

"So what brings you to this side of town?" he asked as she scuffed her toe in the soft bark ground.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," she shot back, swigging from his bottle again before holding it out to him to take back. He was smiling again, and she found it irritating.

"Considering you're drinking my alcohol, I'd say the least I deserve is a somewhat decent conversation." He sipped from the bottle and winced as the alcohol hit his throat. She rolled her eyes. _First timer._

"How do you know I'm not from this side of town?" She couldn't resist, and his eyes flashed at her in amusement.

"I've seen you around before. You go to Plainsboro High right?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh so you _are _a stalker."

He laughed openly, leaning back as he did. "I've been there before, for competitions. I've seen you around." When she just raised an eyebrow in response, he shrugged. "I'm good with faces."

"So you go to Townsend Prep." She made a show of taking him in, with his dress pants and deep blue shirt. "That doesn't surprise me at all."

He smirked at her. "You jealous?"

She scoffed. "Hardly."

"You wanna sit?" He gestured to the large strange structure, made up of tunnels and nets and slides, the kind Beca had always wanted to explore as a kid, and without waiting for an answer he walked towards it, ducking into a small cave looking hole. She hesitated, wondering if she should take the opportunity to leave, but then she remembered.

There was nothing much to go back to.

So she grabbed her backpack and followed him, squinting as she let her eyes adjust to the limited light. There was a small bench on either side with a walk way in the middle, and she took the seat opposite him, eyeing him suspiciously. She didn't know why he was being so… Nice. It was strange; she didn't know if she liked it all that much.

"So what's your deal?" he asked once she had settled, and he waited patiently for her to absorb his question as he swigged from the bottle, wincing again.

"My deal?"

"You're in a park, at midnight, talking to a guy you don't even know the name of, with muddy shoes and angry music leaking out of your earphones." He gestured to said earphones, which she realised were still playing music as they hung out of her jumper neck. "Obviously you got a lot on your mind, so I'm just, you know, offering to listen. If you want to talk."

"This isn't helping the stalker thing you know," she said dismissively. He handed her the bottle and she took a large gulp so she had something to do other than avoid his intense gaze.

"And now you're deflecting." He smiled, and she realised he was being genuine. "It's cool, I can roll with this."

She lowered the bottle from her lips slowly, wondering what to say, before blurting, "You're here too."

"Correct."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, you're in a park, at midnight, talking to a girl you don't know the name of…" She rolled a wrist as an unspoken etcetera rather than repeating it all, and he nodded, the smile falling from his face for the first time since he scared her off the monkey bars. He looked out of the entrance for a moment, and then turned back to her, the smile returning.

"Jesse." When she looked at him in confusion, he elaborated. "My name. It's Jesse."

She couldn't help smirking at him. "That's a girl's name."

He eyed her, unamused. "You sound like my sister."

She wondered if she could give a fake name, but then realised it was pointless. It wasn't like she'd see him again. "I'm Beca."

He smiled. "Beca the angry vodka drinker from Plainsboro High."

She already regretted giving him the right name. "I prefer whisky." She bit her tongue, trying to figure out why she was being so honest with him.

"Beca the angry alcoholic from Plainsboro High," he amended. He watched her huff and shift so her feet rested on the bench, her knees bent towards her. "You avoided my question."

"What question?"

"What's your deal?"

"You avoided it too."

"I asked first."

"You really gonna go there?" she said in amused disbelief. "What are you, twelve?"

"I'd rather be twelve and awesome than whatever old age you're trying to be."

"What?" She gaped at him.

"You're all grumpy and dismissive of people. Like an old lady."

"You're a terrible drinking partner."

"You're a terrible conversationalist."

She looked at him, exaggerating how impressed she was. "Wow, big word! The education at Townsend must be really something."

"See? There's the dismissiveness."

She went to make another joke, to brush him off, but there was something in his eyes that made her stop and take a deep breath. "My dad left."

He nodded, and she waited for him to make a big deal, to offer her advice or attempt a hug or anything other than what he actually said. "That sucks."

Too stunned to do much else, she shrugged. "What about you?"

"It was my grandma's funeral today."

Beca was not good in emotional situations, and she wondered why she had even put herself in the position to even have to deal with this, so she just repeated his words. "That sucks."

He kept his eyes trained to the ground, shrugging as she had done. "Not really, she was sick for a long time."

"Oh." Beca had no idea what to say.

"Yeah."

She raised the bottle to her lips, swung it back, and then handed it to him. "To your grandma."

He smiled in appreciation and took the vodka, copying her movements and then flashing her a lopsided smile. "You're strange, you know that? It's pretty cute."

She scrunched up her nose. "Don't call me cute."

"Adorable."

"Don't call me adorable."

"You're really hard to please, aren't you?" He grinned again and she contemplated him, wondering if he ever stopped smiling. It was annoying but a little endearing.

"So what is Townsend like? Is it as stuck up as it seems?"

He chuckled. "It's actually pretty awesome. You should see it; we're all amazing there."

She rolled her eyes. "So it creates generations of stuck up idiots."

"We're not idiots, we're very intelligent."

"You could have fooled me."

A ringing interrupted them, and he sighed loudly before pulling his phone out of his pocket. There was a hesitance but he answered it, and Beca looked away into the darkness between the trees. It was a little scary, looking around and realising how very alone she was. Yes, this kid was with her, but judging by the anxious words he was trying to convey to who she presumed was his mother, he was about to leave. Then she would be alone, trapped on the wrong side of town with no way of getting home and maybe no home to even go back to.

"I have to go," Jesse said once he'd hung up, and was it just her or did he sound disappointed? "My mum is freaking out that I disappeared, and my sister is apparently a mess so uh, I should…" He hitched his thumb over his shoulder and she just nodded, still looking away. "Do you have a way home?"

She grimaced. "Not really," she answered truthfully, finally letting her eyes settle back on him. He was putting the bottle back in his bag, but looked up when she spoke. "No, no," she said quickly at the look on his face, "It's fine, I can make it back, it's not that far."

"Don't be ridiculous, you can't walk back across town in the middle of the night." He stood up, crouching a little in the small space. "I can drive you, it won't take long."

Her eye brow raised in doubt. "You sure you can? You did drink."

He shrugged. "I had like two sips of the stuff. It's fine, seriously, we just have to avoid the cops."

She stared at him, dubious, but did she really have another choice? Sighing and rolling her eyes for what felt the billionth time since she fell on him, she stood up. "Fine. But if we get arrested, I'm throwing you to the sharks."

Once they left the play area, Beca felt a strange stirring in her gut. It was like, for the past hour that she had been sitting with him, they had been sitting in their own little bubble, completely separate from the world. But once they walked out of the small gate and began to cross the grass, suddenly they had rejoined the world and it was… Odd.

They walked to what she presumed was his parents car in silence, which continued through most of the drive apart from her occasional directions. The radio played classic rock in the background, and she kept her eyes on the street lamps as they whizzed by. It was peaceful and she enjoyed having the time to think, to mull over what she would inevitably be facing when she got home.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket for the first time since her lunch break at school, Beca scrolled through the 46 missed calls and 29 text messages. Yikes. She was in big trouble. Many of the calls were from her mother, but the last dozen were from her father. A few dotted here and there were from Kimmy Jin's house. Some of the text messages were from a few high school friends, and all of them pleaded her to come back home.

They must have thought she had run away. Seen what awaited her and made a dash for it. Maybe they thought she was seeking attention; trying to get her parents to back together through the worry of a missing daughter. That seemed a better excuse than the truth; that she felt horrifically guilty that her one wish had finally come true.

"Beca? Beca?"

She turned to Jesse, jumping out of her thoughts she hadn't realised she was so wrapped up in. He glanced at her for half a second, making sure she was okay she supposed, before returning his eyes to the road.

"You got pretty lost there; you okay?"

She shrugged. "I guess. Just not sure what I'm going home to."

He nodded slightly, his focus momentarily distracted by a roundabout. "I guess you didn't tell your parents about your little trip across town."

"Not exactly," she hedged.

"You should at least text them, let them know you're on your way."

She sighed loudly, leaning her temple against the cold glass of the window. "I think I'd rather cherish the peace for a little longer."

He smirked. "Wow, I didn't realise you enjoyed my company that much."

She scoffed, "Hardly. I didn't exactly choose to talk to you."

"You could have left right after you fell on me," he pointed out, and she pressed her lips tightly together. He was right, but she didn't know why she had so willingly stayed with him – because alcohol was not the only reason, she knew – so instead, she threw back a retort to dodge the point.

"Obviously you slipped something in that vodka."

"If I did that, surely I wouldn't be driving you home right now?"

"It's all part of your dastardly plan to find out where I live so you can camp out in the bushes and take pictures of me through my window when I change."

"That would be your own fault for undressing in front of a window with the curtains open."

She pressed her lips together again, this time to try and keep the smile away at how easily he managed to dodge her quips and instead fire them right back. Not many people could keep up with her; it was weirdly refreshing. "So you admit to planning on stalking me?"

"That depends." His eyes flicked over to her for just a second, but she could see the amusement there, sparkling in the dim light from the street lamps. "Do you _want _me to stalk you?"

"I don't think that's how stalking works."

"Fine then, I shall rephrase: do you want me to see you again?"

It was bold, and it caught her a little off guard, but there was something about him that intrigued her; this teenage boy who had found a lonely (and a little vulnerable, even she would admit) girl in the middle of a dark park, who had basically tried to get her drunk, but instead of being like pretty much every guy at her school who would more than likely try and get in her pants, he had instead just enjoyed engaging her in conversation; and it was actually _good _conversation, it was actually kind of fun and interesting. _He _was fun and interesting.

"Maybe," she answered vaguely, and when a grin took over his face she added, "In your dreams."

But he seemed to have seen right through her answer, because he stopped at a stop sign and turned to look at her, a sly smirk there that made his cheek bones all the more prominent. "Well, that's a shame really, because I have every intention of seeing you again, Beca the angry alcoholic from Plainsboro High."

She raised an eyebrow, not backing down from his intense gaze. "Those are the words of a stalker."

"It would be my pleasure to stalk you."

"If that's supposed to be some kind of line to get somewhere with me then you really need some lessons in what a girl actually wants to hear."

"I'd love for you to teach me some time."

His entire expression told her that he was deliberately trying to wind her up, but she wasn't about to back down from this any more than he was. "That's not going to happen."

"I beg to differ. I think we're going to end up being best friends." When her eyes narrowed, he tagged on, "Maybe even lovers."

"Please don't say lovers." It was taking everything within her to not look away, but she wasn't used to that much attention or intensity, especially from some guy she had only just met.

Thankfully, a car horn blaring behind them disrupted them, and Jesse just laughed to himself as he carried on driving. The break away from him – she hadn't realised how close their faces had gotten, his breath hot on her cheek in a way she didn't find all that unpleasant – gave her a chance to collect herself, to shake off the effect of it – most definitely the alcohol, she reasoned.

After pointing him down the final road before her street, Beca settled back into the fancy leather seats, her fingers digging nervously into the car door. She wasn't prepared for the shitstorm she was about to face, and she didn't know how she was going to cope. She wondered if her dad would be there. Would they shout at her? Would they throw her out? Would they sit her down and give her that lame speech parents seemed to favour when explaining divorce, the one about how they 'still love you very much, and please don't think it's your fault'?

"Oh I love this song!" Jesse exclaimed into the growing silence, and he turned up the radio so that Kansas echoed through the speakers. He tapped the steering wheel to the beat, singing along eagerly with this strange boyish energy. She twisted in her seat to better watch him, trying not to laugh out loud as he slowed the car down to air guitar awkwardly, trying to keep control of the wheel at the same time.

"You're a weirdo, you know that?" she said in a mocking tone when he dissolved into laughter at his own antics. She pointed him down her street quickly, the anxiety knotting in her stomach.

"Yeah, well at least I don't think I'm too cool to have fun," he retorted, but a glance over at her seemed to tell him that the time for joking was over. "Which one?"

But the answer was obvious, because only one house on the street was still light up brightly, the shades still opened. So she kept quiet, her hands beginning to shake a little in her lap, as Jesse slowed a few houses up to a stop. He looked over at her in concern, but she kept her gaze trained on the house. Two cars sat in the driveway.

"I'll come with you, if you want," he said quietly, "I could try and take some of the heat off."

But she was already shaking her head. "Don't be stupid. You've already had enough stress today. The last thing you need is a stranger's parents threatening to have you arrested or something."

He shrugged, and his hand hovered awkwardly over the gear stick before lowering to her own, giving it a gentle squeeze for just a moment. She was surprised to find that it actually helped, calming her down the tiniest bit. She shot him a grateful smile.

"Thank you for driving me," she said sincerely. "You didn't have to be so helpful."

His mouth quirked up in a bashful half smile. "I wasn't going to leave you alone now, was I?"

She unclipped her seatbelt and grabbed her bag from between her legs, hesitating again. "I really am sorry about your grandma." Beca watched his face cloud over slightly. "And I hope you don't get in too much trouble."

He smiled again as she opened the car door. "I'll see you again, you know," he promised, and she bent down to see him leaning towards her with a cocky grin.

"Goodbye, stalker."

Beca walked away from her strange guardian angel with a heavy step, clutching her bag tightly. Something moved in her house, and she didn't need to guess over why because seconds later the door was flung open, her mother running down the garden path to gather her in what was a painfully tight hug. And as her mother sobbed into her shoulder – something about 'never worry me like that again' – Beca instead turned her attention to the car that passed by quietly, her eyes lingering on the silhouette of the driver.


	2. College Is For Losers

**So I forgot to mention on the first chapter how this story is going to work. There's basically two story lines; Beca and Jesse becoming friends and Beca and Jesse dealing with all that Iris brings. It's going to jump between each other, so basically every odd chapter is them becoming friends, and every even chapter is about their life at college. I know it seems a little confusing, but hopefully you'll get the hang of it. Any references to their past will be detailed in later chapters, including her nickname.**

**Also, I've changed the summary for this story to fit better, because the original didn't work as well. Sorry if that's a little confusing.**

**So here we go, first chapter of the second story line, set about two and half years after they first meet in the park.**

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**2 – COLLEGE IS FOR LOSERS**

"Hi there! Welcome to Barden University! What dorm?"

She eyes the girl in front of her warily. Does she know that talking to Beca in that squeaky, over chipper tone of voice may just be enough to send her over the edge? She stops herself from wanting to strangle the girl – committing a crime that serious might not be something her dad particularly approves of, especially on her first day – and instead tries to remember what she'd read in her information pack.

"Uh, Baker Hall, I think."

"Okay," the girl says with wild eyes. Beca really hopes that not everyone here is like this. "So what you're going to do is…"

"Beca! Hey, Beca!"

She turns her head away from the annoying blonde in front of her, glancing to where the strange banging is coming from, and can't help smiling when she sees Jesse leaning out of a car window, his parents waving at her from the front. She chuckles at how eager he looks, the excitement of their first day at Barden obviously getting the better of him.

"Jesse," she calls, completely ignoring the girl who is supposed to be giving her directions. "You know you look like a puppy doing that, right?"

"Did you just imply I'm cute?" he says with a sly smirk, and she rolls her eyes, stepping towards his car and saying hello to his parents.

"What do you want, Swanson? What, it's not enough that I have to put up with the fact you stalked me to college? Now you have to make your presence obvious as well?"

His smile just grows. "You're the one who begged me to come here after your dad blackmailed you into attending college."

"Technicalities." She smiles back. "I'll meet up with you later yeah?"

"Duh." He pinches her cheek. "Look at you! You're a college chick now!"

She slaps away his hand, faking enthusiasm. "Look at you; you're a college loser now!"

He presses his rejected hand to his chest. "I am wounded, really and truly." But he grins again. "Text me when you finish unpacking?"

"If I must."

She watches him drive away, singing along to Kansas loudly through the still open window, before turning back to her taxi. She's glad to see the over eager blonde has left, and starts to arrange her bags awkwardly on the trolley some guy in a yellow shirt left for her. She thanks her driver and takes one last lingering look around the crowded campus, full of people just like her who are about to start their college years, yet are absolutely nothing like her. They volunteered to be here; are happy to be here. Beca wants nothing less.

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Beca scuffs her toe in the dried grass, sighing to herself. Her roommate had promptly abandoned her within moments of reaching the fair, and now she's standing alone, trying to see what it is about college that is so appealing to so many people her age. How can you _want _to be here? It's just a large collection of buildings where kids get drunk, take drugs, and take majors in things that will never teach them much of anything.

If she had disliked her too preppy, too rude roommate during their awkward, mostly one sided exchange in their dorm room, she definitely doesn't like her now she's left her to face this hell alone.

She starts walking, figuring she best make the most of it, and pulls her phone out of her pocket as a crowd of frat boys pass her chanting. Jesse: She just has to text Jesse. He'll come find her and then she'll listen to his optimism and counter it with her pessimism and she won't be so lonely in the middle of the crowd.

Except she never finishes typing the text, because suddenly there's a set of arms around her waist and she's being lifted off the ground, swinging her around in the way only her dorky best friend is capable of (and can get away with, because if anyone else even attempted it they'd be on the floor sobbing with pain). She squeaks in surprise before he puts her down, laughing at her flustered, angry glare.

"Jesse you idiot, you scared the shit out of me!" she protests, smacking his arm, causing him to laugh harder.

"Good to see you too, Bee," he says, rubbing the spot she hit him. "This is Benji, my new roommate," he introduces, pointing at the guy next to him wearing a stripy shirt tucked into his jeans. She raises an eyebrow but keeps her mouth shut. "Benji, this is Beca, the world's worst best friend."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Benji says with a nod. He looks like even more of a nerd than Jesse.

"Yeah." She rubs her hands together. "So you planning on looking around or can we go do something that's actually fun?"

Jesse smiles at her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they begin to walk. "My lovely Beca, look around you! This is your future; lets get involved!"

She sighs, her crossed arms bumping into his side as they walk. "I'm being forced to be here against my will, why would I actually volunteer to take part in things?"

He just laughs her off. "Just you wait, you'll crack. Even you can't resist the conformities of college."

She pulls a face, because there's not a chance in hell _that's_ happening.

"Follow me," Benji says, stepping ahead. "There's only one group on this campus worth joining."

They follow him doubtfully, Jesse's arm still around her, which causes him to stumble a little when a gathering of teenage boys suddenly break into song and she stops dead in her tracks.

"As far as Barden goes, that's what being a man is all about," Benji continues a few steps in front of them. One of the boys lifts his shirt, beckoning at her with his finger. Jesse looks at her stony expression.

"No," she says immediately before he can even open his mouth. "Oh no, not a chance."

"Come on, Bee, lets at least go check it out."

She eyes the shirts some of the boys – because they certainly aren't _men _– are wearing. Treble Makers. Oh god, she really hates terrible puns. "Absolutely not. You can go if you want but there's no way I'm getting any closer to that… Mess."

"You're such a spoilsport," he says, but he stays with her, letting her go and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He's watching them out of the corner of his eye, she can see, though that might just be him watching his new roommate standing a little too close, staring and – oh no – is he clapping along? "You meet that Idris girl yet?"

She grimaces. Jesse has grown fond of teasing her new roommate about her name over summer when they found out, and now she'd met her, Beca regrets defending her. "Yeah, she's already shaping up to be the worst roommate ever. Like I needed another sign not to be here."

"That bad?"

"I introduced myself and she stared at me like I was some kind of inferior being that had had the nerve to be under her foot when she stomped down."

"Ouch." Jesse winces. "Tough luck there."

"Benji seems… Okay."

"His side of the room is literally covered in Star Wars memorabilia."

Beca groans. "I'm never coming over to your dorm."

"It's fine, really," he says with a small chuckle, "Your eyes adjust after a while."

She just looks at him like the complete weirdo he is. "You've found your soulmate, haven't you?"

"Aw, don't worry Bee, no one will take ever take your special place in my heart," he says sincerely, his arm again around her shoulders. She grabs his hand hanging around her, playing with his fingers.

"I don't know," she says casually, in complete contrast to what she's actually doing, "I think I could take advantage of this; finally get rid of you."

"You love me really," he jokes, but she stiffens, immediately letting go of his hand.

"You should go save Benji," she says quickly before he can notice. She steps away and his arm falls back to his side. "I'm going to have a look around, see if I can spot anything lamer than this…"

She trails off at a loss for words so he fills in for her. "Organised nerd singing?"

She rolls her eyes. "Shambles, more like. I'll see you in a bit."

She walks away and takes a deep breath to steady herself. Okay, so its possible things haven't gone exactly to plan over the course of her friendship with Jesse… Yes, so sometimes she dreams of pouncing on him and tearing off his shirt in a way that involves actual physical intimacy. And okay, on occasion he will look at her and she'll have to use every bit of inner strength she has to not kiss him until she's dizzy with the feeling of it. And on maybe more than one occasion, when they have fallen asleep watching a ridiculous movie or something equally as eye-roll worthy, when she wakes up before him to find his arm wrapped around her and her head on his chest, she will let herself believe that it's easy between them, that it isn't going to cause an awkward moment when he opens his eyes to find her snuggled up against him.

But that's very nearly almost all of it.

Jesse's just a friend.

A friend that makes her heart pound double speed every time he touches her.

A friend that makes her forget how to breathe when he strokes her hair or hugs her close.

But everyone has one of those friends, right?

She huffs out a large breath. Even she knows how crazy she sounds.

Spotting a promising sign through the large array of strangely coloured banners, she walks quickly towards it and away from where she left Jesse. 'Barden DJ's'. Maybe Jesse is right. Maybe there's something for her here after all.

Or not, as she soon realises.

She edges away from the table, thankful for the scary Australian girl who has distracted the DJs (deaf Jews, to her disappointment) enough for her to make it away without somehow signing up to anything. She wanders aimlessly, torn between the threat of going back to her room too quickly and bumping into her dad again, and the threat of how insane she'll go if she stays at this fair for a moment longer.

Suddenly, facing her dad actually looks _appealing_.

"Boo."

She jumps, shoving Jesse when he settles into her pace beside her. "I know we joke about the stalking thing a lot, but it's really out of hand today."

"I just can't bear to be away from you," he says with a smile. She swallows down the urge to kiss the dimple that appears and looks around them to distract herself.

"Where's Benji?"

"Nursing his pride. One of the Treble Makers was a total jerk to him."

She glances over at him at the edge in his voice. "Oh my God, Jesse, tell me you aren't actually thinking about joining those guys!"

He shrugs her indignation off. "Why not? I'm good at it, and it actually looks kind of fun."

"How am I friends with you?" she asks herself, goose bumps spreading up her arm when his elbow grazes hers.

"Universal rule. You have to be friends forever with any guy you fall on top of."

She looks over at him in her periphery. "That wasn't even my fault, you're the one who terrified me."

They pass a guy in tiny Speedos and Jesse laughs quietly at the look on her face. "Hey, maybe I could join the swim team?"

Beca makes a show of looking him up and down. "Nah, you don't have the body for that kind of thing."

Jesse, however, remains amused and unfazed. "That's not what you said –"

She slaps a hand over his mouth before he can finish his sentence. She glares at him accusingly. "Were you just about to break the Secret Vow?"

He licks her hand and she removes it, wiping it grossly on his shoulder. "You're disgusting."

He grins. "That's not –" But he stops at her glare and instead looks around them, his smirk still playing on his lips. "Hey look!" He points forward to a large white sign, reading the name aloud. "Barden Bella's. What do you think that is?"

"I don't really care," she says dryly, but he's already pulling her by her hand over to the stall, his strength overpowering her resistance. "Jesse! Let me go!"

"Hey!" Jesse calls over to the two girls standing in front of the table, grabbing their attention. She swears under her breath, muttering about how much she hates him. "No you don't," he teases before looking at the blonde, who is staring at them like they're freaks.

"Hi there!" the redhead greets warmly when they reach the stall. "Any interest in joining our acapella group?"

Beca takes the flier offered to her gingerly. "Oh, right, this is like a thing now."

"Oh, totes," she says like it's completely obvious. "We sing covers of songs but it's without any instruments; it's all from our mouths."

Beca's mind casts back to the singing boys from just before as Jesse snatches the flier out of her hand to look it over. She has no desire to be involved in any form of aca whatever it is she said. "Yikes."

"There's four groups on campus," the girl continues, the blonde still eyeing her strangely. Jesse's still holding her hand and it's distracting her from paying too much attention. "There's us, the Bella's, we're the tits." She gestures to somewhere behind Beca. "The BU Harmonics, they sing _a lot _of Madonna." She hitches her pen behind her. "Uh, the High Notes, they're not particularly motivated… And then there's…" Finally she turns to where the Treble Makers are singing to a new song a little ways off in the distance.

"Oh, cool, the Treble's," Jesse speaks up, his eyes still taking in the flier. "They looked pretty awesome just before."

The blonde glares at him, her eyes lowering to their joint hands, and Beca pulls her fingers away quickly, Jesse glancing at her in surprise like he hadn't even noticed they were doing it. "The Treble's aren't awesome," the blonde hisses, but the redhead puts her hand on her arm, encouraging her to take a few breaths.

"So are you interested?" She's smiling at her, and Beca is at a complete loss for what to say.

"I'm sorry, it's just, it's pretty lame," she admits, failing to hide the smile at the thought of her actually taking part in something like that… Over her dead body. Jesse snorts, coughing to hide his amusement at her words.

"Aca-scuse me?" the blonde says in disbelief. "Synchronised lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart topper is not _lame._"

The redhead speaks up again, "We sing all over the world and compete in national championships."

"On purpose?" Beca nudges Jesse when he has to stifle laughter again.

"We performed at the Carb Energy Performing Art Center, you bitch," the blonde defends viciously. Jesse finally looks up from the ridiculous flier, his eyes flashing angrily, and the redhead rushes again to salvage the situation.

"Oh! What Aubrey means to say is that we are a close-knit, talented group of ladies whose dream it is to return to the national finals at Lincoln Center this year." She smiles and Beca can actually _feel _the cheesy line coming. "Help us turn our dreams into a reality?"

"Sorry, I don't even sing," Beca says before Jesse can do any more damage. "But it was _really_ nice to meet you guys."

She pulls Jesse away by his wrist, slapping his shoulder when they're far enough away. "You idiot, what did you do that for?"

"I wanted to know what it was!" he protests. "Though I don't think I want you joining that club. You'll have murdered that blonde girl before the first meeting is out."

"True."

"And I don't really fancy taking that long journey once a week to visit you in jail and sneak in your favourite cookies."

"Good to know where you stand with this all."

"Hey look!" He points up at something else, and she rolls her eyes. Not again. "Internships!"

Her eyes prick up at that, and she quickly looks to where he's pointing. The stand looks pretty harmless in comparison to some of the ones they've passed, so she lets him lead her over, glancing at the list of internships on offer.

"Oh Bee check this out!" He points at the sheet of paper in front of him on the table. "Radio station. That could work for you."

Beca takes a second glance, her interest peaking for the first time since she got here. "Actually, that's not a bad idea."

He grabs an application form for her as she reads the 'more information' section. "It says they're looking for two interns. Bee! We could apply together!"

She lifts her head to crinkle her nose at him. "That sounds horrific."

He nudges her playfully, completely used to her dry sense of humour. "Come on, it'll be fun! It can be our new version of piano class."

"Why would I voluntarily put myself in the position of working with you?" she jokes. "Besides, you'd never actually do anything; I'd have to do your work while you wound me up."

His eyes twinkle at her, taking another application form. "Sounds fun, right?"

She snatches her form out of his hand and tries really hard to not smile at how incredible he looks with the sun beaming down on him. "You're such a pain in the ass."

* * *

Beca lets her eyes close peacefully as she lies there happily on her dorm floor a few hours after the activities fair, crossing her ankles and taking a relaxing breath. Jesse is beside her, his hands behind his head and his biceps substituting her pillow, and he's staring up at her ceiling, both of them lost in thoughts. She lets the moment wash over her, how comfortable she feels just existing alongside him. It's enough for her. Lying there on her floor doing and saying absolutely nothing, she knows she'd be quite happy to be stuck in this moment forever.

"Beca?" he whispers through the silence.

"Hmm?" she hums back sleepily.

"We did it. We made it to college."

"You only just realised?"

He must have turned to look at her, because his exhale disturbs her hair. "No, I mean as in, we actually _got in _to college. It wasn't some mistake that they sent us acceptance letters. I just, I can't believe we're at college."

"Me neither," she mutters back bitterly, thinking back to her dad. No, she thinks, don't let him ruin this moment.

He's quiet again for a moment. "Beca?"

"Yes, Jesse?"

"I'm really glad your dad blackmailed you into coming here."

She smiles softly. "I'm not doing it just for him."

Her eyes are still closed, so she can only hear him shifting beside her. "What do you mean?"

She takes a deep breath. "The blackmail wouldn't have worked if you didn't agree to come with me."

She feels him shrug. "There's no where else I'd rather be."

Beca forgets how to breathe for a minute, but he's already changing the subject. "Can you believe just 24 hours ago we were up at our spot? Seems like forever ago."

She opens her eyes and rolls so she's facing him, trying not to be distracted at how close his face is. "You know, I think I'm going to miss that place."

He smiles. "It's okay, I'm sure we'll pick a new one here soon enough."

"It won't be the same."

"I suppose, but you know, that's life. Things change. Nothing stays the same."

She frowns and looks down at the rise and fall of his chest. They don't normally have such serious conversations. In the two and a bit years she's known him, their talks have almost all been on light topics, ones that don't dip past a line where things can get too serious. She knows everything about him, and he knows almost everything about her, but they don't discuss things in detail. Their bantering works best for them, and on the rare occasion when their skills as each other's best friends are put into practise, they're there for each other unconditionally. But those moments are never talked about after they happen.

"Nothing?"

"Almost nothing," he amends, moving his arm underneath her so it wraps around her, pulling her close to him. She immediately holds him too, closing her eyes at the comfort it brings. "We'll always be together."

She draws tiny stars on his chest. "You think?"

"I _know_."

"Jesse," she begins nervously, unable to look up at him. "I um, I have to tell you something."

"What's up?"

"Last night, when we were talking, and I said –"

The door opens and she turns her head to see her roommate glaring at them, clutching a frozen yogurt pot. Beca quickly untangles herself, half relieved for the disruption, and quickly gets up from the floor. She holds a hand out to help Jesse up who is looking at her strangely, but she just shakes her head minutely. _Don't worry about it_, it says to him. He seems to accept it, because he turns to grin at her new roommate.

"Hi there! I'm Jesse, a friend of Beca's. You're Ida right?"

Beca glares at him as her roommate ignores his offering of a handshake. "Iris," she corrects shortly.

Jesse withdraws his hand, turning to give Beca a _she's definitely crazy _look before grabbing his jacket from her desk chair. "See you tomorrow?" he asks, and she nods.

"I'll text you after class," she promises, and she watches him go with a strange hollow feeling in her chest, shooting Iris a dirty look when the girls smiles slightly and kicks the door shut, sitting down at her desk and taking a victorious mouthful of her ice cream. Beca sighs, falling back onto her bed. What the hell is she doing here?

* * *

"Hey, I'm Beca, um…"

"Over there." The man at the desk points her in the direction of a door labelled 'Studio' and she walks through, opening the door to reveal a large room full of metal shelves and band posters plastered to the walls. She looks around a little anxiously, looking for someone through the mess.

"95.7 WBUJ, music for the independent mind," a British accent echoes around the room, and she spots a blond guy leaning back in his chair from a booth on the other side of the room. She works her way through the shelves towards him, figuring he's as good a bet as any in finding out what exactly she's supposed to be doing, but when she gets there he's out of view.

The door opens and she jumps a little as the guy emerges, his t-shirt tight and his arms covered in various tattoos. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Have you been standing there long?" he asks, turning a dial on the wall that quietens the music volume.

"No, no, I just got here, I wasn't just standing here." He walks back into the booth and she tries to follow him.

"Freshmen aren't allowed in the booth." She steps back, apologising quietly though she has no idea why. "I'm Luke, station manager, you must be Becky, the intern?"

Becky? "Uh, It's uh –"

"Hey man," Jesse walks into view, a hurried smile on his face. "What's up, I'm Jesse."

"I'm Luke; You're late."

Jesse glances over to her, his eyes gleaming in amusement. "My class overran."

"You didn't have class this afternoon," she says casually, dropping him in it with a sly smirk. He narrows his eyes at her, but Luke doesn't seem to care too much about the reasons behind his tardiness. They follow him around to a desk as Jesse starts rambling, a habit he has when he's put in a new environment.

"I know her." Jesse points at her and Beca wants to hit him to shut him up. "We're the bestest of friends."

"No we're not." She glares at him.

"Yeah we are."

"No, we aren't." She turns back to Luke who is just watching them, unamused by their bantering.

"Okay, well, you guys can figure that out while you're stacking CD's." He pats the top of the box he'd grabbed from inside the booth. "When you're done, there's more." He glances between them, already looking bored with their presence. "You guys are going to be spending a lot of down time together so please just, no sex on the desk."

Beca and Jesse look at each other and Jesse wiggles his eyebrows.

"I've been burned before."

"Yeah that's not going to be a problem," Beca says dryly, rolling her eyes when Jesse pouts like he's heartbroken. Luke exhales heavily before walking away, leaving them to it.

"He seems like a top notch guy," Jesse muses as he puts his bag under the desk. "Great tats, definitely your type."

Beca picks up a CD from the crate, her eyes flickering down the track list. "I suppose."

"He's definitely attractive," Jesse continues, "Excellent bone structure, fancy British accent… I think we just met my nemesis for the shareholder of your heart."

She looks up at him in surprise before realising he's kidding around. "This sucks," she says quickly, trying to change the topic before she ends up embarrassing herself. "I wanted to play music."

"Not me, I really love stacking CDs. It's my secret hobby." She glances up from the crate to look at his sceptically. "You know they had a job going at a lab that tests the effects of marijuana on your appetite? But I was like, no, I wanna stack CDs with my amazing best friend who is looking at me like I'm the weirdest guy on the planet…"

She presses her lips together to stop smiling. "That's because you _are _the weirdest guy on the planet."

He grabs some of the CDs that she's already checked out and walks over to a shelf, eyes flickering over the stickers to find out where to put things. "Good thing you're the weirdest girl on the planet then, hey? We're meant to be."

She throws a CD at him and he catches it awkwardly. "You have never been more unattractive to me."

He grins. "Does that mean you found me attractive before?" She feels her body temperature rise and he gasps. "You did! You totally had the hots for me at some point!"

She scoffs. "Whatever, nerd."

"Oh my God you're doing that thing! That's your tell! You're totally hiding something!" He walks back towards her, his expression failing at staying serious. "Okay, tell me honestly, was it at prom? Because I'll be the first to admit I looked _great _at prom."

She takes a stack of CDs and walks to a shelf that hides her from him so she has time to collect herself. "Dude, no! Would you get over yourself?"

He appears at the other end of the shelves and makes her jump. "It's okay, Bee." He walks towards her with a shit-eating grin. "Best friends are allowed to think the other is attractive. It would be _wrong _if you didn't find me attractive."

She leans against a shelf, staring up at him and his taller build. "Does that apply both ways?"

"Of course."

He has no idea what he's walked into. "So you found _me _attractive at some point?"

Jesse doesn't even blink, answering honestly, "You are attractive, Beca. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

It throws her off her game for a second, her smile slipping slightly. "What?"

"Not that I'm going to let just _any _guy be with you," he continues, walking past her and back to the box. She follows him, confused. "They have to be up to a certain set of standards."

"How can you even say that? Not a single guy showed any interest in me at high school." But then it hits her, and she gasps loudly. "Jesse! Oh my God tell me you didn't!"

He's looking down at the cover of a record, hiding his face the best he can. "Didn't what?"

"Tell me you didn't warn away any guys that might have actually liked me!"

His jaw tenses and she gapes at him. "No…"

"You totally did!" She shoves his shoulder, laughing in amazement at what he had done. "You asshole!"

He looks up, a bashful look on his face. "Well none of those idiots were even _close _to good enough for you!"

"I can't believe you!"

She won't admit it to herself or him, but she's surprisingly not angry. She's actually quite touched at how protective he is over her; she knows he's done stuff before, defending her honour when anything threatened her or something. But this… This is different. Because even though it's stupid what he did, she can't help but see in his eyes how much he cares for her, and how he only ever really has her best interests at heart.

Beca doesn't know how to say thank you, so instead she teases, "Does that mean Luke meets your standards for me?"

Jesse's eyes bug. "What?"

"Well, you basically implied just a minute ago that I should go for it with the guy." She puts a hand on her hip and tries not to grin. "Does that mean someone finally passes the test?"

"That guy?" Jesse uses a CD to point at Luke, lounging back in his chair, completely oblivious to what they're doing. "Please. You're so far out of his league that if he even stands near to you for too long he'll explode."

"And I suppose by your standards, you're the only one so far who's good enough for me?"

He smirks but it softens as he looks at her. "Oh no, Beca - even I'm not good enough for you."

* * *

**Okay on a scale of one to ten, how confusing was that? I'm trying to make it easyish to follow - like the tenses are different for each part, but I know it's still going to have its issues. Iris is here, she's making her impact, so things are going to get dramatic in the present world! Next chapter sees Beca and Jesse starting junior year of high school, and things are about to get a little complicated...**


	3. The Handsome Stalker

**Chapter three! It's back in time for some pre-college meetings, and wow is this a strange chapter! Not sure how it became what it did but... Just read it :P**

**To Grey, I understand your thing about Beca's nickname of 'Bee', trust me I would never normally give it to her under any other circumstances, but this chapter explains the root of it. You'll see it's not as much a term of endearment as it is Jesse holding something over her. Hope that bit will clear it up for you!**

* * *

**3 – THE HANDSOME STALKER**

"Come on Beca, it'll be fun! You love music!"

Sandra – her lab partner in Biology and probably the only person in that dump of a school to actually give a genuine damn about her – gave her wide puppy dog eyes, causing Beca to groan and turn back to her text book.

"No, I'm not going with you!"

"Please! I can't go alone, I need someone there, and you're perfect for the job as my wingman."

Sandra's eyes glazed over at the thought of Johnny – a guy she'd met on their first day of junior year a month before – and Beca sighed in relief, trying to focus instead on whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. Beca wasn't in the mood for class today. She wasn't in the mood for social interaction and she especially wasn't in the mood for this choir showdown thing Johnny was apparently taking part in. She'd much rather just sit in her room in her too quiet house and listen to music.

Besides, she was still technically grounded from her stunt at the end of summer.

"Beca? Please?"

"I'm not being your wingman."

"I'll do your Biology homework for the rest of the month."

Beca looked over at the blonde beside her, pressing her lips together hard at the internal battle. Yes, so Beca didn't want to go, but not having to do homework? It seemed like a pretty good deal – and Sandra was great at Biology, so she knew she'd get good grades.

"Ah!" Beca sighed angrily. "Fine, but I'm not staying any longer than I absolutely have to." Sandra's face broke out into a giant grin. "And if anyone asks, we are studying because I'm still grounded."

Sandra squealed and threw her arms around her, Beca looking around at their unimpressed classmates awkwardly. She patted her arm, gently prying her off, and forced a smile at how delighted Sandra looked.

"You're going to love it," Sandra promised.

Beca was unconvinced. "I highly doubt that."

* * *

Beca sighed heavily as she looked around the auditorium, taking in what was probably the least desirable thing she'd ever participated in. There were about forty people dotted around in various seats, with two groups at the front chattering nervously in creepy matching outfits. The stage lights were dimmed while they waited for everyone to arrive, and there was an awkward air to the whole thing that made Beca seriously reconsider how much a month free from Biology homework was actually worth.

"Beca! Over here!"

Too late. Sandra had already spotted her.

She sighed heavily before making her way down the steps towards her friend, who had chosen prime seats right in the middle so she had the best view. Beca made her way along the rows towards Sandra, who was practically jumping out of her seat in excitement. Beca didn't understand why she was so excited; she'd made sure to hide her earphones in her jumper so she could discreetly lose herself in her own music instead of terrible covers of terrible songs.

"Hey."

"I'm so glad you're here!" Sandra practically squealed, gripping her arm in a vice grip. "This is going to be great, Beca, I promise. Look, Johnny is already here!" The blonde pointed at one of the groups, and Beca could easily spot her friend's crush, towering over everyone else with his freakishly tall height.

"That's great," Beca went with, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably. Beca wanted to crush Johnny in her fist for existing, because if it weren't for him she wouldn't be stuck in a smelly auditorium.

The main lights began to dim and she forced a smile at her buzzing companion, sliding down in her chair a little as an older guy she vaguely recognised as a teacher at their school took to the stage and called order to the room.

"Welcome everyone, to Plainsboro High School's hosting of the annual showcase for the new year's glee clubs." Beca's eyes widened and she turned to Sandra, who tried to shrug off the dirty glare Beca gave her - no one had said anything about glee clubs. "We extend a warm welcome to Townsend Preparatory School's glee club The Wonder Notes, and wish you the best of luck in your endeavours over the forthcoming year."

She pulled her earphones out of her jacket, pushing them into her ears as Sandra freaked out beside her over Johnny taking the stage, leaning her head against the backrest. She tapped her foot to the beat of her music, letting her thoughts wonder.

The past six months had been difficult. After she returned home from the park, her parents had been too relieved to see her alive and well to be mad at her, but as they explained their situation to her through the night, she had struggled once more not to fall apart. Apparently they had decided "divorce was their best option" in light of raising Beca. She didn't really know why, because her parents had been too busy fighting to raise her at all for the past three years.

There was of course, the small matter of where her father had been planning on going. He had taught at the local university, but apparently had been offered a better job somewhere in Georgia – two states away from where they lived since they moved to North Carolina ten years ago. Her father had decided to take the offer, basically making his position as a parent non-existent, because he wasn't going to be around anymore.

He had stayed in the state for most of the summer, leaving at the beginning of August to set up his new home. She had been avoiding his calls pretty much ever since, determined not to talk to the man who had abandoned her so cruelly. The messy divorce had eventually been finalised that morning, according to a text from her mother, and that was all Beca could take from the day. She was officially the child of a broken home, and though she'd wished for it for most of her life, Beca was still realising the ramifications of that.

(She wouldn't let herself feel the true ache of how much she missed her father.)

Beca's eyes closed as she tried to block the pain of it all. The divorce proceedings had been tough on her mother, who spent most of her time either out at work or in her room crying. Beca had basically been left to fend for herself, which she wouldn't mind if she was actually allowed out of the house. Still, she reasoned, at least the house was quieter now. And she'd noticed a considerable decrease in how much she drank, though that might just be due to not even being able to sit in the back yard anymore with Kimmy Jin.

A tapping on her arm made her open her eyes with a sigh, turning to her friend who was frowning at the stage. She pulled her earphones out to hear her, and the tune of Justin Timberlake's _What Goes Around Comes Around_ reverberated back to her.

"Beca, that guy is staring at you." Sandra pointed down the stage. Beca shrugged her arm off but the blonde grabbed her again, insistent. "Beca seriously he's totally checking you out!"

Beca turned to look at the stage, noting that she must have successfully missed the entirety of her own school's performance. There was a new group up there, most of them swaying in the back, but two guys were swanning about with a cocky swagger, one of whom was staring at her. When he saw her looking back, he grinned, and it jolted something in her memory.

"Oh my God…"

The boy from the park was taking the lead on the song they were singing, pointing at her as he sung, "…_I was ready to give you my name, thought it was me and you baby…_"

His voice echoed through her chest enough to take away her breath, and she just stared at him like an idiot. The boy from the park - Jesse, she thought his name was - strolled across the stage of her high school, rotating his arm around his head in time with his hips. He was watching her, a smile on his face that didn't match the tone of the song, and she was glued to her seat, unable to look away.

"I think he likes you," Sandra whispered as she leaned over to her. "Told you this would be fun."

"This… Shut up." Beca ran her hand through her hair in an attempt to appear like she wasn't freaking out internally. Jesse had joined the other members at the back of the stage, dancing in time with them as a tall girl took over singing, but she could still feel his eyes on her. It was incredibly distracting.

After what seemed like an age the song finished, and everyone in the auditorium clapped as the group walked down off the stage. She jumped out of her seat, suddenly anxious to get out of there, but Sandra was delaying deliberately, trying to see if Johnny would pay her any attention. Sandra gripped her arm to keep her there, and Beca knew she had no escape route.

"Beca!"

She tried to ignore the call of her name, keeping her back to the area she knew he had been sitting with his teammates.

"Beca!"

Sandra looked behind her, eyes widening as she tried to get Beca to turn around. She crossed her arms, warring with herself before she gave in and turned around to see Jesse walking up the aisle towards her and away from his team who seemed to be leaving the auditorium.

"I thought I was supposed to be the stalker in this relationship," he said as he reached her, a boyish grin on his face as he flicked his long hair out of his face. She smiled at him tightly.

"You're at my school," she pointed out, "Think that means you are still the stalker here."

"You guys know each other?" Sandra peaked over Beca's shoulder to the exchange of unreadable looks between her and Jesse.

"We've met," Beca allowed, but Jesse continued for her.

"Five months and twenty three days ago."

Beca raised her eyebrows at him. "You totally just made that up."

"Fine, give or take a day." He smirked. He was entirely too cocky for his own good, so it surprised her when her lips twitched with a hidden smile.

"I'm Sandra," the blonde introduced when Beca seemed unwilling to, and Jesse shook her hand warmly with an easy smile.

"Jesse."

"Still a girl's name," Beca muttered quietly, but he caught it.

"Still sound like my sister," he shot back. Sandra's eyes flickered between them in confusion.

"Okay well, I'm going to say hi to Johnny. I'll see you later, Beca?"

"I can't stay," Beca said, not moving her eyes from Jesse's challenging stare. She wasn't about to let this egotistical teenager get the last victory in their… Well, he wasn't exactly a friend, was he? "I have to get home. I'll see you in Biology."

"Alright well I'll text you," Sandra amended. Her eyes were full of hidden meaning that she tried to hope wouldn't be locking her in agreement to share details on the exchange she was trapped in. "Bye! Nice to meet you, Jesse."

"You too, Sandy!" Jesse called after her, still watching her.

"Sandra," Beca corrected. He just shrugged it off.

"I knew you'd be here."

"Your stalker side is showing."

"As soon as they mentioned us coming here last week, I knew I'd see you again." His eyes sparkled at her but she refused to let him get a reaction out of her.

"I'm here against my will," Beca explained, her arms crossed around herself. "Sandra blackmailed me."

"Let me guess; homework for a month?"

Beca shrugged. "I can't believe you're a member of glee club."

He smirked again. "I love music, and it looks great on my transcripts."

"Yeah, but _glee _club?" She shuddered for effect. "That's just not worth it."

"It keeps me busy."

Beca recalled suddenly the night they first met. She remembered how he had had a reason to be there too; his grandma had died, and it had been her funeral. Beca felt herself soften a little as she realised that he, too, had probably had a difficult few months since, and that maybe, this strange boy would understand her attitude to life.

"How are you coping?" she asked gently, and he seemed surprised at the sudden shift in her. She hoped that her expression didn't convey pity. That was not something he probably needed; pity meant a constant reminder to your troubles, meant that others walked cautiously around you, asking how you were all the time, not daring to make jokes that could be construed in any way as offensive against whatever they were pitying. She prayed that her expression showed her concern rather than any pity.

"Alright, just trying not to linger on it." Jesse shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "How about you?"

"It's over," she said simply, and he seemed to understand because he nodded. He did not look at her with pity; he looked at her with understanding.

"How much trouble did you get in that night?"

"Not much, honestly. Though I am grounded at the moment... I'll probably get stick for being here if I don't rush back before she gets back from work," she admitted, and he nodded again, his expression oddly serious. She felt a bit of herself soften to him against her agreement, because he just seemed so genuine in that moment, watching her with gentle eyes. She wondered if maybe, the cockiness was all just some strange act.

"Want me to walk you out?"

Beca glanced around, realising they were nearly the last people left in the auditorium, and she smiled gratefully as they walked up the row towards the exit. "Will your group have left without you?"

"Please." Jesse scoffed, the playfulness back. "They won't leave without the star."

Beca tried not to smile. Whether it was an act or not, she found bouncing off him with her sharp humour refreshing, and dare she say entertaining? "Wow, that's some nice ego you got there."

"Thank you," he replied smugly, falling into step beside her after they ducked through the door and entered the corridor. "So this is Plainsboro High? Huh."

"What, not fancy enough for you?"

"I was just wondering where the chandeliers are," he said casually, eyeing a locker with a less than polite word scrawled over it. "Wow, I thought stuff like that only happened in movies."

"Welcome to high school." She watched him as he looked around, their pace slow, seeing how his eyes seemed lighter in the new lighting.

"Where's your locker?" he asked, tilting his head to look at her properly as they walked.

"A few hallways away. Why?"

"Wondering if there were any pictures of me stuck inside."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Dream on, glee boy."

They rounded a corner and reached the last exit until they would be out in the open and he would have to rejoin his team. Beca panicked a little. This time, she found she didn't want to just walk away. Jesse was interesting; different to what she was used to, but in a good way that made her curious. Yes, he annoyed her, but he had also just made her laugh (a difficult feat for most in the past half year), and she was finding it difficult to resist that boyish grin. Somehow, in the matter of two short meetings, he seemed to understand her more than any of the people she had been going to school with for two years.

Beca didn't want to say goodbye.

The cold air was refreshing on her face, and she stopped walking to turn to him, her hair whipping around her face. His smile was lob-sided, and it caught her off guard when he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, holding her tightly for just a moment. She melted into it, surprising herself further at how willingly she let him so close, but she pulled away first.

Only to discover that he had her phone in his hand, and already he was tapping buttons furiously. "What are you doing?!"

"Putting my number in," he said distractedly. "And texting myself."

"What if I don't want you to have my number?" she tried but made no move to take the phone back.

"Tough." She distantly heard a buzz, obviously his phone, and he grinned at her as he handed back her phone. "I also now need your last name, so my stalking can truly commence."

She couldn't help the amused twitch on her mouth. "I'm a very uninteresting person to stalk; you'd find much more fun in stalking people like Sandra."

"Yes but you see, Sandra didn't fall on top of me and drink my vodka," he said quietly as he stepped towards her.

A honk behind her made her start a little. "Goodbye Jesse," she said with a small smile, looking away to the ground.

He stepped towards her again, brushing past her towards his group. "Goodbye, Beca."

Biting her lip, she went for it, spinning around to call after him. "It's Mitchell." He looked confused. "My last name, it's Mitchell."

He grinned and bowed low in farewell. She watched him walk away, shaking his head as a few of the boys slapped him on the shoulder, and she arranged her bag on her back fussily before starting the ten minute walk towards her house. As she reached the school gates, she was disturbed from her walking beat by a buzzing in her pocket. She pulled out her phone, her face breaking out in a grin when she saw a new text from 'The Handsome Stalker'_._

_Until we meet again, Miss Mitchell._

* * *

The whispers in her class started from Georgiana McGuire ten minutes before the end of first period.

Beca wouldn't normally be paying any attention to anything going on around her - socially or academically – but her English class was extra boring, and Beca had stood on her earphones the night before so they were out of commission as her usual distractions. She sighed, leaning back in her chair and watching the second hand tick past the 5 on the clock above the board.

"…Just sitting there…"

"…Even doing here…"

Beca rolled her eyes at her classmates idle gossiping and felt a vibration on her thigh. She pulled her phone out under the desk, opening the message with a secret smile.

_How are you this fine morning?_

Jesse had been texting her at least once a day since he stole her phone a month ago. It normally went this way; he would say hello or ask how she was, and she'd tell him that she was supposed to be focusing on her school work, to which he always replied with something along the lines of 'we both know you weren't anyway'. Their chats was short and impersonal, and the only other time she'd hear from him would be the occasional joke he'd thought up and wanted her approval of (which she never gave no matter how much some of them made her smile).

_Do you normally pay so little in attention in class or is that just for me?_

Seriously, she had no idea how he learnt anything with the way he always seemed to text during school hours.

"There's a what outside?" a girl behind her whispered as she read Jesse's reply.

"Not a what, a _who._"

_Just for you, of course_. She rolled her eyes before realising he couldn't see her. Her phone buzzed again and she opened the new message, her eyes going wide.

_Besides, I'm not in class to be able to pay attention._

"A Townsend boy!" came the reply from one of the gossipers. Beca tried not to let her brain make the connection, but it was there, nagging away in the back of her mind. That boy… What was he playing at?

_You sick? _She prayed, hard, that it was the case.

_Sick of not seeing you anymore_.

Her grip on her phone tightened and she closed her eyes tightly. She was going to kill that idiot…

"Apparently he's one of the leads in their glee club."

_I'm taking you out for ice cream._

"If it's who I think it is, I met him at a party once. He's gorgeous."

_Grab your coat, Miss Mitchell. You've pulled!_

_…You expect me to skip school for you? _she text back, knowing very well what his reply was going to be.

"Missy just sent me a picture! He's just standing in the parking lot…"

"Maybe they're planning a prank?"

_Did I not mention the free ice cream?_

She pressed her lips together, looking up at the clock. Three minutes left to go. European History was her next class, and she had absolutely no desire to sit through that, never mind the rest of the classes on her schedule; but was she really going to skip a whole day of school and undoubtedly get in trouble for it – just for a boy?

The answer was yes, of course she was.

So when the bell rang to signal the end of class, Beca grabbed her bag in a hurry, trying not to look too eager as she slipped her way through the crowd. Running her fingers through her straight hair, she stepped out into the cool breeze, spotting him instantly in his pale blue shirt and dark jeans. He waved at her and she rolled her eyes at how keen he looked, and she knew that it was probably going to become school wide knowledge within two minutes that the boy in the parking lot had been waiting to whisk away little old Beca Mitchell, the moody junior no one seemed to get along with.

"What's up weirdo," he called as she approached. "I've got to honest, for a minute there I thought you weren't going to show."

"Well I can't turn down free ice cream, can I," she said in fake dismay. "Even if it _is_ from my stalker."

He pulled open the passenger side door of his car – a different one to the one she remembered from seven months ago – and she hesitated a moment before climbing in. He jogged around, getting into the driver's seat and managing to start the engine in one fluid move, and then they were off, leaving her school behind.

"So what's this all about?" she asked, eyeing how his fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel.

"What, a guy can't just skip school and walk over enemy lines to kidnap a girl he's only seen twice without a good reason?" he joked, but he glanced over to see her doubtful expression and his smile dimmed. "I don't want to talk about it, if that's okay."

"Sure." She looked out the windshield, watching the trees speed by. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. "Why me?"

"Why you what?"

"Why'd you kidnap me?" She tried to keep her tone light, but he seemed to see through it. He paused, and she thought he might not answer, but after half a minute he finally sighed, ringing his hands around the leather of the wheel.

"I don't know."

"From the sounds of the gossiping when you were spotted, you're quite popular with the ladies," she continued casually. She realised she'd boxed herself in a little, because she wasn't good at dealing with the emotional stuff and it wasn't like she even _knew _Jesse that well, so how exactly could she comfort him if that's what he needed?

"You jealous?" he teased instead, causing her to roll her eyes, glad to see that part of him that was so easy for her to work with peeking out again.

"Hardly. Just seems weird, is all."

"You think it's weird that I chose you over the many other girls I could have kidnapped?"

She twisted in her seat to see him better as he kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tensed. "Well, yeah. You could have taken someone from your own school."

"But then I wouldn't have been able to make such an impact."

He was avoiding having to answer, so she sighed and gave in, letting him keep it whatever it was to himself. "Where are we getting ice cream?"

"There's this little parlour about two minutes from here, my friend has pestering to go for ages but I'm never over this side of town."

"Oh, you mean Joel's? Great ice cream."

"Good." His eyes flickered over to her, catching her staring at him. "Then you can pick one for me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, it's my first ice cream there, it has to be _amazing _or I won't want to take you again."

She tried not to smile at what he was insinuating. "Oh really? You think you can just kidnap me from school whenever you want ice cream?"

His smirk was hard to miss, and made her own smile impossible to suppress. "Yes."

She tore her gaze away with a huff as he pulled into a parking space and they climbed out of the car to look up at the 50's-style ice cream parlour tucked in between a tile shop and a charity shop. Jesse was practically vibrating with his excitement, and Beca followed him in amusement through the door.

"So what do you recommend?" he asked from beside her, looking at the wide flavour choice inside the clear plastic counter.

Beca smirked, shaking her head. "Oh I'm not picking for you."

Jesse pouted. "Why not?"

"Because then you wouldn't get to experience Joel's magic talent." She approached the counter, smiling at the balding overweight man who grinned at her warmly.

"Ah, Miss Beca! Lovely to see you again," Joel said happily in his faded Italian accent. "And you bought such a fine young gentleman!"

Beca looked at Jesse who hovered behind her shoulder. She raised a shoulder in dismissal. "Eh, he's okay."

"Hey!" Jesse protested, but Beca just turned back to Joel.

"How are you?" she asked kindly.

"I am very well, Miss Beca. Has your darkness been cleansed?"

Jesse squeaked and Beca just laughed. "Yes, I was finally forgiven for the car thing."

"I am very pleased to hear this." Joel regarded them, stepping back to take them in. "Your orders will be right up."

"But we haven't ordered…" Jesse frowned at Beca and she chuckled. He was in for a treat.

"I told you, Joel is magic. He can tell just by looking at you what your perfect flavour is."

"Miss Beca here is black cherry," Joel explained as he took three large scoops from one of the tubs inside the counter. "Because she is a little scary to look at, but she is interesting when you get to know her, a surprise to those she lets close." Joel headed over to a pump on the wall. "She has caramel sauce, because ultimately, she is very sweet."

Beca accepted the pot that Joel handed her with an eager smile, taking a blue plastic spoon out of the tub beside the cash register. Jesse still looked mildly unconvinced, so Joel considered him again before going back to the flavour selections.

"You sir, what is your name?"

"Jesse."

Joel nodded and began to prepare a new pot. "Your flavour for today is coffee, because you are energetic, you can keep up with those around you, you open people's eyes to the world." Joel sighed sadly, walking back over to the pumps and selecting the chocolate one. "But at the moment, Mr Jesse, there is a darkness in you. Something is worrying you, saddening you, so I recommend you use this Wafer to steal some of Miss Beca's ice cream."

Jesse looked at the man in astonishment, and Beca accepted his pot for him while he regained brain function. She chuckled at the small smile playing on Joel's lips. "I think you broke him, Joel."

"Then maybe you should try and fix him, Miss Beca." There was an undertone to his words she didn't quite understand, but she instead snapped her fingers in front of Jesse's face to bring him back to the room.

"You okay there, stalker?"

"Peachy." Jesse pulled out his wallet, paying for the ice cream and following Beca to one of the tables tucked in the corner, right by the window so they could look out at the street. She smiled as she tasted her first bite, watching him stab at his own with his spoon for a minute, not meeting her eyes. She could see something was very wrong, but she didn't know how to bring it up, to try and at least attempt at helping him somehow. She wished she had a vodka bottle in her school bag, something she could pull out and use to make him smile like he did her when they first met.

"You actually going to eat that?" When he looked up, she used her spoon to gesture towards his pot, and he nodded slowly, taking a small taste.

"Wow, this is actually… This is amazing." Jesse smiled at her, whatever was playing on his mind before now swept away, and she decided to keep with the lighter conversation topics. They seemed to be the easiest for him, and maybe the distraction would help him.

"Joel is pretty awesome."

"Yeah." He looked out at the window at a passer by. "So I think we should play a game," he suggested after a beat of silence. When she didn't look completely horrified at the idea, he carried on. "Since I stole you from your education, and since this is the third time we've met, I think it's only fair I get to know at least something about you, and you know something about me."

"What, you wanna play twenty questions?" she asked dryly. He nodded with a smile and she looked at him like he was crazy. "That's not going to happen."

"Why not? It's only fair that we, as friends, actually know things about each other."

"Who said we're friends?" she questioned darkly, leaning over the table with a raised eyebrow. She shoved a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth to mask her smile and he just gasped in exasperation.

"Well there's the first thing I've learnt about you today. You're rude."

"I'm not rude!" she protested through her laughter, sitting back in her seat. "I just don't consider people my friends unless they've proven themselves friend worthy."

"And I haven't?"

"You coerced me into skipping school with you so you could have ice cream," she pointed out. "Friends wouldn't try to interrupt friend's learning."

He shook his head in amusement, lacing his fingers together around his ice cream pot. "Do you know nothing about the norms of high school? That's _exactly _what friends do."

"Well they shouldn't," she said, crossing her legs under the table.

"Come on, Beca, play this one game with me?" he pleaded with wide eyes. "I promise to take you straight back to school after."

She ran her tongue between her lips and her teeth, caving too quickly. "Fine, but no ridiculous questions."

His grin was full of victory and she wanted to kick herself for being such a push over. "Okay, first question; What's your favourite colour?"

"Red," she answered immediately. "What's your favourite band?"

"Um… Probably The Mike Pinter Four." He nodded, as if reaffirming his choice to himself. "What is your favourite type of weather?"

She raised an eyebrow at his question but answered anyway. "Uh, windy days. What is your favourite colour?"

He was still looking at her doubtfully for her last reply. "Blue. Why do you like windy days?"

She shrugged, toying with her melting ice cream. "I like the feel of it, the way it makes the world quieter. I like how it challenges you, how if it really tried, it could blow you away." He considered her words, surprised by the depth of them, and she rushed to move on. "What's your favourite weather?"

"Snow, I love sledging." His eyes sparkled at the thought of it, a childish grin spreading across his face. "My aunt lives in Canada and we go up there for the holidays, so we get to have a play about most years."

"I'd love to try sledging," she confessed. "I've only ever seen snow the three times it's happened since I moved here, and that was terrible snow."

He looked at her in surprise. "You've never been sledging? Oh my God, Beca, you are missing out, it's incredible." He was grinning, and she felt herself flush. "Where did you move from?"

"California, moved when I was six."

"Wow, you're a California girl?" he asked doubtfully.

"I know." She looked down at her pale arms. "I don't exactly have the complexion for it, but I was born there."

"Huh." He picked out his wafer from the melting mess in his pot, dipping it into hers to steal some of her ice cream. She made a noise in protest and he just smirked at her, chewing on his wafer proudly. "What?" he said innocently. "Joel told me to do it."

* * *

Twenty minutes and 38 questions later, Beca was wiping at her eyes as she struggled to stop laughing at Jesse's earliest memory.

"I'm serious!" he said despite his own laughing. "To this day I don't think my mother has forgiven me, and I was three years old."

"I'm sorry, but that is just ridiculous." Beca wafted her hand by her face to try and gain control over herself. "I can't believe…"

She dissolved into laughter again and Jesse sighed dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. "Laugh it up, go ahead! Ridicule my younger self for things beyond his control."

His comment only made her laugh harder, and Joel wandered over to collect their empty pots and wipe down their table. "Miss Beca, are you okay?" he asked in alarm at the sight of a tear running down her cheek.

"Joel, she is mocking me, and I'm very insulted. I demand that next time we come here, you give her pure chocolate sauce because she is evidently a very dark, evil person." Jesse glared at her and she pressed her lips together, her shoulders shaking with the effort to stop her laughter.

"Alas, it does not work that way," Joel said in amusement. "But I will gladly have you two back here anytime."

"Thank you Joel." Jesse smiled at him as he walked away, turning on Beca when he was out of earshot. "See, at least _someone _is nice to me."

Beca just let out another giggle before composing herself properly. "I'm sorry, I'm totally over it."

She wasn't, which Jesse seemed to notice because his eyes glinted cunningly. "I've humiliated myself, so now it's time for you to do the same. What is your most embarrassing moment?"

Her smile dropped and she blushed a fiery shade of red. "Oh."

Jesse was surprised by her reaction, so he carried on pushing it. "That bad huh?"

She shook it off, shrugging instead. "Not really, but I'm sure you'll find some way to hold it over me for the rest of time."

His eyes flashed again, and Beca wondered when this avoidance of the obvious need-to-tell-you-something thing was ever going to stop. "Even better."

She sighed heavily for effect and started to tell him. "When I first moved here, I was invited to a party." He was already smirking, and she knew there was no way she'd ever hear the end of this if she told him, but for some reason she carried on. "And this little blonde girl who thought she was answer to all the world's problems told me it was fancy dress."

His face scrunched up with the effort not to laugh already. "Tell me you didn't…"

She bared her teeth in a terrible attempt at a smile and he chuckled. "But I only had one costume, see, from when I was four at Halloween." She paused, for dramatic effect. "It was a little Bee costume, tutu and wings and all the trimmings."

Jesse was perfectly still for a few seconds before collapsing over on himself with laughter, bashing the table and shaking his head every time he tried to look at her. She kept her face solemn, raising an eyebrow at his laughter, and he managed to control it quicker than her by staring at her forehead rather than her eyes.

"That's not that bad," he reasoned, a chuckle escaping between his words.

"Shut up." She slapped him across the table on the arm. "It was horrific for me at the time! I was new to the area, had no friends, and this bitch thought she could pull a fast one on me!"

"She did pull a fast one –"

"That's not the point, Jesse."

"I can imagine you in a bee costume," he said deliberately, his eyes trailing over every part of her that the table didn't obstruct. She chuckled as she pushed at his cheek to break his gaze, and he turned back to her with an easy smile. As he hand retreated he sprang out and grabbed it, turning it over to examine the lines across her palm. She forgot how to breathe, his touch hot against her skin.

"My granddad had a heart attack this morning." He looked up from her hand, an indistinguishable edge to his eyes that made Beca swallow thickly, trying to keep her face blank, to keep her hands from shaking in his. "That's why I kidnapped you. I'm sorry."

Her free hand raised to touch his cheek – she didn't know who was more surprised at the move, him or herself – and her mouth twitched into a sad smile. "That sucks."

He ducked his head as he smiled, looking back at her with some of his old sparkle back. She turned her hand so she could clutch his. Beca hated how hurt he seemed, how the world was being so unfair to this sweet boy who didn't seem to have a bad bone in his body. He had just lost one grandparent, and the world was scaring him with possibly losing another? It made her so mad. There really was no justice.

"I know I said I was sorry about kidnapping you, but I'm not really. I had fun. I'm glad I chose you." He tilted his head with a genuine smile and Beca grinned back, telling him she had had fun too. His eyes grew wide. "But you don't know how to have fun!"

Rolling her eyes, she squeezed his fingers. "Sure I do, I'm a ball of laughs."

"But you know German," he protested, referencing to one of the questions he had asked her twenty minutes before.

"You're an idiot." Her tone sounded more fond than insulting, and it just made him grin more. He stood up suddenly, keeping her grip on her hand to pull her up.

"Come on, lets go to the mall."

Dropping his hand, she shook her head. "Oh no, I'm not being _that _kind of teenager."

"Good, because I was going to take you go-karting anyway." And he was dragging her out of the parlour before she could even understand what he had just said to her, throwing a farewell over his shoulder to Joel who just watched them in amusement, wiping down his counter with a soft smile.

"Ah," he sighed quietly to himself, "To be young and in love..."

* * *

**Joel is my baby. I do not know anyone like him, he is entirely a figment of my imagination that developed late one night and I didn't have the heart to cut him out. If enough of you like Joel (I hope you do, because I love him) I will give him a few more scenes. Maybe even his own story. Heck, I'm considering being the founding member of his fan club.**

**Let me know how you think I did on this chapter, and I'll try to upload the next one (once I have written it, obviously) soon; it's auditions time! Which of course, equals hood night, and I've got a job on my hands trying to rewrite that thing to match their new friendship...**


	4. The Bet

**On a roll with this story! Seems I enjoy writing it when I'm sick because I can't stop. To note, I will basically be using all the deleted and extended scenes in this story. I now have them all (Hannagh with a G, as usual, big love to you my creepy friend) and in one way or another, they will be included and/or referenced. It's not really a big deal if you haven't seen them all, it makes very little difference because any lines I used are in this anyway (obviously, disclaiming again).**

** So yes, to stop rambling and let you get on with this. Audition and Hood Night time!**

* * *

**4 - THE BET**

She is awoken by someone poking her harshly in the leg, and her first thought of the day is that today is the day she gets arrested for murder.

"Beca. Wake up." She turns her head, lazily opening one eye to see her father sitting on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed. She can see the headline now: _PROFESSOR KILLED ON CAMPUS BY OWN DAUGHTER_. "Funny, this doesn't look like your Intro to Philosophy class," he says dryly, looking around the room in mock confusion.

She pushes herself up, out of the warm cocoon she had created for herself in the blankets and duvets, and just as dryly says, "I'm posing an important philosophical question; if I don't actually go to that class, will it still suck?"

"That's actually pretty clever but that's not the point." Dr Mitchell is evidently not in the mood today, and she can tell by the term of apparent endearment he uses next that sounds more condescending than anything. She climbs out of bed lethargically, regretting her decision to stay up until 6am mixing songs on her computer, as he starts to lecture her. "Look, honey, college is – It's great. You get to create memories here, I see it every day! You just have to give it a chance."

Not really fancying being treated like one of his students, Beca rifles through her wardrobe simply to have something to do other than wring his neck.

"You've been here, what, a month now? Do you have any friends?" he asks, and she sighs.

"I have Jesse," she points out, fiddling with her bathrobe. Maybe he'll get the picture that she wants him to _leave_.

Of course her father never leaves when she wants him to, and that murderous rage is beginning to boil again as he wiggles the mouse of her computer. No one touches her computer and gets away with it. "You can't _just_ be friends with Jesse," her father says in a tired voice. She is well aware of how wary her dad is of her best friend, but she doesn't care. Jesse had been there when he wasn't, so her dad has no valid opinion on the matter. "You gotta get out there Bec, you gotta try something."

"I got a job at the radio station," she informs him, leaving out the part about it being with Jesse.

"Oh great, that place." He rolls his eyes as he sees her mixing program up on her screen, minimising it like he can't bear to look. He instead sits down in her desk chair. "It's dark and dirty and has like, what, those three weirdos who work there?"

"Well, four, now," she responds dryly again. She doesn't understand why her father has always been so discouraging to the things she wants to do. He refuses to have faith in her dream to make music and never shows any enthusiasm for things she does; aren't dads supposed to encourage their kid's dreams? Aren't they supposed to help them and guide them and offer their full support? Maybe, her father hasn't been her dad for too long to see that anymore.

"You gotta try something new, Bec!" he protests, "Join one club on campus. And if, at the end of the year, you still don't want to be here? If you still want to go off to LA, be P. Diddy" – she rolls her eyes at his ignorance – "Well then, you can quit college. And I will help you move to LA."

Her interest is peaking, because _is he seriously serious right now?_ "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. But I really need to see it, Beca. This is college! Join in!" He walks towards the door but it opens before he can do it himself, and her roommate walks in, looking her dad up and down in disapproval before strolling to her desk without a word. Her dad nods his goodbye and leaves, and Beca sighs, completely flummoxed by what just happened. Did he really just offer what she thinks he did?

A smile breaks out across her face and she grabs the rest of the showering things. This she _has _to tell Jesse.

* * *

One highly disturbed hour later, Beca knocks incessantly on Jesse's door, a habit she has annoyingly picked up from him. She is bouncing on her toes, full of restless energy at her dad's compromise, and Jesse answers the door with an easy smile, watching her dive straight past him without even noticing his state of half undress until she's sat in his desk chair and let her force twist it round slowly. She squeaks quietly in surprise when she finally realises he's only wearing his jeans slung over the deep v of his hips.

"Something you like, Bee?" he teases when he sees where her eyes are aiming, and she drags her eyes away quickly. She doesn't know _why _she made that ridiculously girly noise – it's not like she hasn't the boy topless before, after all she's known him for two and a half years – but somehow it catches her off guard. She berates herself for her silliness, trying to remember why she's here and not on what she wants to do now she is here.

"I have had the _weirdest _morning," she tells him, fixing her gaze firmly on his face (which is still rather cockily smirking at her) as he moves to his wardrobe to find a shirt. "So my dad woke me up this morning –"

"- Your dad?!" Jesse interrupts in surprise, his teasing gone now that the topic of her father has been breached.

"I know right?" She sighs but carries on. "But anyway, so he told me I don't get involved enough or whatever, and so he's made a compromise." Jesse raises an eyebrow to encourage her to continue, pulling out a shirt she bought him for his birthday two years ago. "He said if I join a club and put the effort in, then he'll help me move to LA at the end of the year."

Beca doesn't really know what reaction she expected from this news, but she is surprised by how he does. He turns abruptly away, pulling on his shirt over his head. But she can see how his shoulders sag, how he seems to slouch at her news strangely. A small part of her thinks that maybe he is disappointed, but she shakes it off. This is _good _news, right?

"That's great, Beca," he says quietly, his back still to her. "You going to take him up on his offer?"

"I guess…" She frowns, looking down at his worn carpet. "I hadn't thought that far ahead."

Facing her again, his smile is quite obviously faked. He falls down onto his bed, wrapping his arms around one of his pillows that he drags into his lap. "Well let's get brainstorming! Got to find you something appropriately moody and not-fun. Maybe there's a German club?"

The memory of her morning strikes again. "Oh that reminds me! So I just went to have a shower, and you will never guess what happened in there." He smirks inappropriately and she groans, throwing the nearest object at him that he deflects easily with his pillow. When it falls on the blankets she notices it is one of her CDs that she's given to him over the years. "You're gross – though not actually far off. You remember the activities fair last month?"

"Sure."

"Well remember that table you dragged me to, with the bitchy blonde and strange redhead?"

He looks away as he tries to remember, snapping his fingers when he gets it. "The all-girl acapella group!"

"Yeah! Well the redhead intruded on my shower, both of us _naked_" – Jesse smirks again, his eyes glittering, and she wishes she hadn't thrown that CD without such probable cause– "And she made me sing with her. Said she wants me in the Bella's."

Beca laughs at the absurdity of it, but Jesse actually looks thoughtful, tapping two fingers absently on the CD case. "Well why not?" he speaks up, effectively ending her amusement.

"What?"

"You have a great voice, you know you'd be good at it." He shrugs. "You need a club to get to LA and get out of here. Why not join the club that actually really wants you?"

She watches him in amazement. He can't be serious, can he? "You think I should join an acapella group?" she asks in disbelief.

"Yeah, I think it would be cool." He perks up suddenly, a genuine smile washing over his face. "Ooh, you know, if you join the Bella's and I join the Treble's…"

He raises his eyebrows suggestively but she doesn't understand. "Are you going to make a stupid joke?" she deadpans.

He grins; so yes. "You'll be one of those acapella girls, I'll be one of those acapella boys, and we'll end up having beautiful aca-children. It's inevitable."

She rolls her eyes despite her pounding heart. "You're an idiot; have you been drinking? Dude it's only ten in the morning."

"I'm serious!" he says through a laugh at her comment. "You gotta join the Bella's! It'll be awesome!"

She shakes her head adamantly. "No. LA is not worth that kind of humiliation."

"You were a member of the glee club in high school," he points out, and she buries her face in her hands in shame.

"For like five minutes! Because _you _made me!"

"Don't pretend like you didn't love it."

She huffs, pushing some of her hair out of her face that has fallen out of her messy ponytail. "Shouldn't you be discouraging me from joining if you're going to become a Treble? The Bella's are your competition, and if I join you won't stand a chance."

He raises his eyebrows at her cocky smirk. "Oh really, Miss Mitchell? You think that highly of yourself?"

She shrugs, inspecting her nails as she fakes disinterest. "Not to toot my own horn, but yeah, basically. I've got all my hidden musical talents just waiting to be shared."

He throws the pillow at her, laughing at the stunned expression on her face as the pillow falls to the floor. "You willing to place a bet on that confidence?"

She gages his offer, squinting her eyes at him suspiciously. "What's your angle here?"

"No angle." He gets up from the bed and walks towards her, his hand out ready to shake. "I just think you're awful cocky for someone who doesn't stand a chance against the Treble's."

Narrowing her eyes, she gets up slowly, still tiny in comparison to his height. "I could crush you like a bug without even trying."

"Then lets shake on it." His hand is still there, taunting her, and she wants nothing more than to shake it and wipe that smug look off his face.

"What's the bet?"

"Which ever team gets the furthest in competition."

She steps closer, trying to be intimidating. "The stakes?"

"When I win, you…" He pauses, thinking it over, his face lighting up cunningly when he comes up with it. "You have to have my name tattooed on you."

She narrows her eyes again. "And when _I _win, you have to get my face tattooed on your arm." She trails a finger over his bicep and for half a second he looks nervous. "Right… Here."

"That's far worse than mine," he points out.

"You too chicken?"

"No, I just want to change mine." She rolls her eyes but nods. "Bumble bee. Right… Here." His fingers dance on her hip and she can't help her eyes fluttering closed. They're so close she can feel his breath, and the fell of his hands is almost too much.

"D-Deal." She grabs the hand from her hip and grips it tightly, shaking twice. "Be ready to lose, Swanson."

"Don't count on it Mitchell." He pulls her sharply by their joint hands so she collides with his chest, and he looks down at her, trapping her helplessly with his dark eyes. "You better start preparing; auditions are tomorrow afternoon."

She tries not to let him see how flustered she is, instead hoping her gaze is just as challenging as his. "Please, I'm practically in already. The only preparation that needs to be done around here is by you, for when you _lose_."

They glare at each other, locked in their stance against each other, until Benji stumbles into the room, his eyes widening at the sight before him as the two spring apart guiltily. Beca smiles and greets him quietly, her stomach in knots, and quickly excuses herself. It is not until a few hours later, when she is on her way to the station for her evening shift, that she realises Jesse may have just challenged her for reasons different to what she had presumed. That maybe, he just bet his arm away to encourage her to take the leap and join a club, kick starting her journey towards getting to LA by the summer.

She hopes not. She somehow can't bear the thought.

* * *

Beca stands outside the auditorium nervously, staring at the closed door like it might bite her if she touches it. She can hear someone talking, and she knows Jesse is in there with Benji, probably laughing it up that he's about to win that stupid bet. She shakes her head. No, she can't let him win this. There is no way she's letting him get the satisfaction of seeing her being inked again – especially with a bumble bee.

Why is she so nervous about this? All she's doing is going up and singing on a stage, in front of a bunch of people she doesn't know. She's done it before; it's not like it's a really big deal. She's done far scarier things.

She's not really _scared _so much as she is worried. She can't stop thinking about why Jesse made the bet in the first place. She can't back out, she knows that, but it makes her anxious that he challenged her in such a way. She remembers how he had turned away when she told him about her dad's offer. Had he been sad about it? She doesn't think so, but then she had essentially begged him to choose Barden instead of all the other places he was accepted. What if he thinks that her leaving after the first year is like her abandoning him?

No. She shakes her head again before the thought can manifest. She needs to get a grip on her feelings for Jesse. It's pointless and pathetic. Jesse is her best friend – nothing more – and thinking of him as anything more is just a delusion. If he liked her, then he would have made a move. Jesse's just that kind of guy.

She waves away the memories before they can trap her.

Instead, Beca turns away from the doors, heading to a new set. She walks through the small backstage area, dodging ropes and beams as she quietly makes her way in. She peeks out and sees three crowds of people in the chairs, and she distantly recognises a few from the activities fair. The blonde is glaring at the douchiest Treble in the back, and the redhead is smiling at her in amusement. A boy walks on from the other side of the stage, calling the place to order, and she tucks herself into the darkness as she sees a small crowd of people waiting to take the stage.

"Here's the first one up."

"Whenever you're ready, dude," a guy with thick glasses calls from the Treble Makers. Taking off his – no, _her – _hat, the girl tuts at his presumption.

"Yeah, hi, my name is Cynthia Rose," she introduces, before she starts making a strange "zoom" noise as a beat. Beca watches from the sides as the girl belts out a hell of a voice to a Kelly Clarkson song, and she's impressed. Maybe acapella requires more talent than she originally thought.

She watches a few of the auditions, realising that maybe the song is less a personal choice and more just the audition song (one that she has not prepared and doesn't know well enough) and that there are also some strange people at this college. She recognises a tall brunette – Stacie, she thinks her name is – from one of her classes when she rarely attends (who sings in a very scary way). She notices the large blonde auditioning, the one she remembers from the activities fair that saved her from the Barden DJs (who introduces herself by calling out, "Fat Amy, representing Australia! No pressure, just got the hopes of a nation on me."), and she claps along with the crowd when Benji hits his final note.

Which is ultimately what catches Jesse's attention as he walks onto the stage to do his audition. He winks at her and she raises an eyebrow in amusement at his cocky strides. He has always been most confident on the stage.

"Hey, I'm Jesse," he tells the groups in the audience, introducing himself with a friendly wave. He starts singing and she can't help smiling. His voice has always done funny things to her stomach. He jokes about struggling to reach the high notes, and she sees him peaking at her out of the corner of his eye. It feels strange to see him sing but not have him sing _to _her. Ever since she has known him, he has always done that, which she complains about but secretly loves.

When he finishes, he grins at her, and the audience seem confused when he does not walk off the way everyone else did. She shakes her head as he approaches her.

"Oh no, no no no no," she says in a panic as he grabs her wrist. He pulls her onto the stage and she stumbles a little with his force. "Jesse!" she hisses as he puts his hands on her shoulders, his back to everyone else, smiling at her softly.

"You got this, Beca," he whispers so only she can hear. "Stop thinking you aren't good enough."

She just glares at him. "I hate you," she mutters.

"No you don't." He grins and then leaves her alone, centre stage. She looks out, the redhead catching her eye and giving her a thumbs up. Beca takes a deep breath, and she turns her head to see Jesse standing in the wings. She can do this.

"Hello, I'm… I'm Beca." She waves awkwardly, tapping the toe of her boot behind her other ankle. "I didn't know we had to prepare that song…"

"It's okay, sing whatever you want," the redhead assures, while the blonde just stares at her in confusion. Beca hesitates, but then she spots it; the yellow plastic cup on the table. She glances again at Jesse and he seems to know what she's thinking because he nods eagerly, so she walks closer to them. "Um, may I...?"

She kneels down to tip the pens out and then crosses her legs, holding the cup awkwardly. The room is too quiet, too tense, but she reassures herself that Jesse is there, he believes in her, so she lets the beat come to her, clapping, tapping and slapping for the different tones.

"_I've got my ticket for the long way round, two bottles of whisky for the way…_" she sings, trying not to look at the girls who are scrutinizing her. Jesse's gaze is warm on her back and she remembers how they learnt this silly thing together, one rainy Sunday afternoon during junior year. She tries not to smile at the memory, how Jesse had struggled and complained for a good two hours to her great amusement.

She finishes and the redhead is grinning at her happily, the blonde pulling a strange face, and she hands back the cup with a forced smile. Getting up, she brushes off her jeans and raises her hand in a motionless wave as she walks quickly away towards Jesse. He's smiling at her like an idiot, and he throws his arm around her as they walk towards the exit.

"That was great, Bee," he enthuses. "I told you you're good."

"Whatever," she mumbles, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Can we please go get cheesy fries now?"

He chuckles, tightening his grip against the back of her neck. "As long as you're paying."

* * *

Beca's not really clear on the specifics of _how _she got here; all she knows is that there's a hood over her head, and either she's been kidnapped by a cult and is about to be killed, or she's been kidnapped by a cult and is about to experience initiation.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your stand point), it's the latter.

She is introduced as an "alto" – whatever that is – and she jumps when she sees the creepy candles beside her. Looking down the line, she can see Stacie there, and the large blonde – Fat Amy, as she introduced herself at auditions. There's about ten of them standing there, dazed and confused, and again Beca wonders if this stupid bet is worth it.

"Welcome," the blonde says mysteriously. She raises her arms, palms up, and gestures around the large space like its not just a candlelit old gymnasium. "You have all been chosen to become Bella's; a role that comes with great responsibility. I am Aubrey Posen, captain of the Barden Bella's."

"And I am Chloe Posen, senior member." The redhead – finally identified as Chloe – waves with a friendly smile. Beca can already see the good cop/bad cop thing they got going on.

"We're all going to be spending a lot of time together, so to start we are going to go around in a circle, where you will state your name, where you are from, and something about yourself." Aubrey looks around the room, and Beca wonders if she's always like this or if she's just being strange to put the fear of God in them. Safe to say, it's not working on her (okay maybe a little).

"Well I guess I'll start," Fat Amy says when there's an awkward pause. They gather round in a circle as she speaks. "I'm Fat Amy, I'm from Tasmania. I can sheep wrangle." She starts counting things off on her fingers as Aubrey raises a hand, trying to get her to stop. "Um, I'm really good at breeding beagles, and um, I'm good at troll doll collecting. Just so you don't think I'm a one trick pony" - she flicks at her hair pulled away from her face - "tail."

"Wow, that's uh, that's great, I see what you did there," Aubrey says slowly before turning to someone else. "Next?"

"I'm Denise, I'm from Ohio, and I really enjoy doing charity work." A small girl smiles shyly at the rest of group.

Beca recognises the next girl from the auditions earlier today. "Hey, I'm Cynthia Rose from New York, and I have a pet snake."

The introductions continue around the circle – pausing awkwardly at a small girl who seems to be incapable of talking at a normal volume, who is only identified by the name Lily after Jessica listens really hard by her mouth – until they reach Beca last, who shuffles her foot awkwardly.

"Uh, hi, I'm Beca, I'm from North Carolina – well, originally I'm from California but… Uh, yeah." She nods, hoping someone will draw the attention away from her, which thankfully, Chloe does.

"That's great guys! It's really nice to have you all here." Chloe grins at them all. Beca is beginning to see that this is a regular thing, and she oddly reminds her of Jesse in that way.

Jesse… Did he get into the Treble's? She tosses the thought out as quickly as it appears; she needs to stop thinking about him so often.

"Now," Aubrey begins, picking up a mirrored ceremonial wine glass, "we shall begin by drinking the blood of the sisters that came before us."

She hands the glass to Chloe, who approaches her first, and Beca just stares at it in horror. "Dude, no!"

"Don't worry," Chloe whispers, winking, "It's Boone's Farm."

Beca still isn't convinced, but the thought of farms leads - in a roundabout way - to bees, which makes her take the glass and take a sip of the drink. Jesse isn't about to win this one.

The glass is passed along to each member and soon enough Chloe is coming back down the line, this time handing out neatly folded yellow and blue scarfs. Beca holds it gingerly, looking at the ugly pattern and wondering if she's actually going to have to _wear _this, because at least with the bee tattoo she can hide it from the public.

"Now if you'll place your scarfs in your right hand."

_Oh my God they're really going to swear us into a cult_, she thinks in a mild panic, _what the hell am I doing here?_

"I, sing your name," Aubrey says. A strange collective sound that sounds a lot like 'I, Silly' reverberates around the candlelit space. "Promise to fulfil the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman."

"Promise to fulfil the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman," they repeat in monotone.

"And I solemnly promise to never have sexual relations with a Treble Maker" – Beca doesn't miss how Aubrey pointedly glares at her – "Or may my vocal chords be ripped out by wolves."

_Shit._

She repeats it, because she has to, and really why is it such a big problem? Her and Jesse will never amount to anything, and it's not like this oath means anything; it's just a stupid thing to give the new kids a sense of sacred belonging, right? So she repeats it, trying not to smile at Stacie, who has her fingers crossed under her scarf beside her.

"You are all Bella's now," Aubrey announces with what might just be her first genuine smile. The group around her scream happily and Beca flinches away as the lights flick on. This may just be the weirdest thing she's ever done, and all she can think of is how much she _hates _Jesse.

* * *

After a small celebration of their own (which mostly just involved Beca trying not to cringe away from the conversation Amy was trying to have with her) the new group heads down to the amphitheatre. Beca looks around, seeing a large amount of people gathered in the bottom, and she hopes Jesse is here. Otherwise she's going to have to find some way of sneaking away.

"Ladies, welcome to Aca-Initiation Night," Aubrey says proudly at the front. "Prepare to soften the beach."

Beca slows down – because the closer she is to the top, the quicker she can escape – and turns to Amy who is beside her. "I don't know what I'm doing here," she admits.

"Living the dream," Amy replies with a big grin. "I still can't believe they let my sexy fat ass in."

"Beca!" She turns with a relieved sigh at the sound of her name being called, barely noticing Amy walking away as she spots Jesse. "Bee!"

"Wow." She bites her lip as he climbs over the seats, still calling her name. He's wearing a red hoodie, one she doesn't recognise, and as he gets closer she notices the Treble Maker logo sewn into it. She smiles; she's proud of him, even if it does mean the bet is now officially on.

"BeCAW!" he calls again, and she sighs again. Jesse is drunk already. "Do my ears deceive me-"

"You okay?" she asks when he seems to stumble slightly, but he recovers well.

"No it's okay, I just have to get a better look." She puts on her best show of 'you're really not that funny' as he makes stupid noises, rotating his sleeve in the air in front of her face.

"Are you miming a _window_?"

He clambers over the last seat, mumbling to himself, before he straightens up with a giant grin. "Do my eyes deceive me, Miss Mitchell, or are you a Barden Bella?"

"No."

"I'm so excited for this bet right now, you have no idea, I can't wait to see you sporting that tattoo."

"Jesse," she says as she tries not to laugh (she fails). "You are drunk. How are you already so wasted?"

He shrugs, his grin softening into a shy smile. "I'm totally fine, not drunk at all."

"You okay?" She laughs again. "Can you pass a sobriety test right now?" She pushes him and he leans back, rocking back towards her.

"See how I come right back? And I come right back."

"You're so drunk," she teases as he grabs her hand. Beca is used to this – he gets very touchy feely when he's had something to drink, and she always has to peel him off her before things get too far past a certain line.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asks with wide eyes.

"That'd be great."

"I'm going to get you a drink," he continues as if she hasn't spoken, "I think you need to get up to this level."

He begins to climb again over the seats and she shakes her head in amusement. "You don't need to walk that way!"

"It's the best way to walk!" he calls over his shoulder, and before she can think to watch him carefully to make sure he doesn't fall, Chloe is suddenly in front of her, grabbing her hands and leaning in close.

"Hey buddy," Beca says, trying to sound peppy.

"I'm so glad that I met you," the redhead says happily. "I think that we're going to be really fast friends."

"Yeah, well, you saw me naked," she replies with a wink.

"I did!" Chloe says like she's only just remembered. "You have really great tattoos you know, I especially love the lowest one on your back."

Beca cringes at the thought of it. _Stupid Jesse._ "Super."

"So you excited about joining the Bella's?"

Chloe's face is so close to hers that she's a little fuzzy, so Beca tries to pull back a little to see her expectant gaze a little better. "Yeah. Totally."

"You're going to love it, it's aca-awesome."

Beca pulls a face at the use of 'aca' as a prefix, but manages to recover it into a positive grimace.

"And don't worry about Aubrey, she's a good girl." Chloe nods but Beca is doubtful. "Her parents just didn't take her out of the shrink wrap."

Beca pauses, trying to figure that out, trying not to let two of the Treble's calling out not-even-remotely-attractive remarks to girls disgust her too much. "I don't know what that means."

Chloe shrugs it off. "Alright, I'm going to go get a drink." She lets go of Beca's arms, turning to go. "This ginger needs her jiggle juice!"

"Make good choices!" she calls after her quietly, and she stands there awkwardly, wondering where Jesse has gotten to – until she spots him almost immediately making his way back to her over the rows. She rolls her eyes, half expecting him to take a tumble. At least the trip to the hospital will be a valid excuse to leave.

A new song swells and the mingling crowd below cheer with their arms raised. Jesse gets distracted talking to a girl she presumes is from another of the groups, and she ends up in short conversation with one of the new Bella's, which is awkward enough for her to be thankful to Jesse when he finally approaches, singing along quietly to the song pulsing out of the speakers.

"Thank you," she says as she accepts her long-awaited cup, but Jesse seems more interested in something else because he's turning around, looking out at the crowd.

"This is awesome."

"Definitely something."

Beca can spot it just before he does it, and she doesn't manage to grab his arm and stop him before he's shouting "_We are the kings of campus!_" as loudly as he possibly can. She expects this is something the horrible Treble captain put in his head.

"Jesse?" she calls, grabbing his arm anyway. "Jesse please stop being an idiot."

He turns around and climbs over the final row so he's standing beside her. His arm snakes around her waist and he presses his cheek against her hair, so she takes a large gulp of beer to keep herself from smiling too much.

"You know what happened tonight?" he asks quietly.

"Not unless you tell me."

"I _may_ have committed a minor felony." His tone is casual, too casual to be genuine, and she nudges him playfully in the ribs, his beer sloshing over the sides with the movement.

"Again?"

"We spray painted this group's van. Apparently they still do acapella after college and that's wrong."

She nods, his head moving strangely against hers. "So the Treble's asked you to deface their van as punishment for that?"

He shrugs the best he can with her head on his shoulder (she doesn't even remember putting it there). "I guess."

"Did you at least do it well?"

"Of course."

"Then sure, okay, I forgive you," she says, figuring that's what he wants to hear. It seems she's right, because he relaxes against her with a contented sigh.

"You're the best."

"That I am." She spots Aubrey staring at her with a stormy expression, and realises their position may not be viewed appropriately by the outside world. "Hey Jesse, come on, lets go somewhere else."

He seems to be too inebriated to argue, so she puts her arm around him to keep him steady as they make their way up the stairs to the top of the amphitheatre. He's heavy against her and she'd probably struggle more if she hadn't done this many times before, but she knows to keep him steady by allowing him to ramble on about something – in this case, his initiation.

"They gave me this really cool jacket," he tells her as they walk along a pathway towards her dorm. "And Donald says they have _loads _of them –"

"Which one is Donald?" she cuts in.

"The glasses guy?" She nods when she puts the face to the name. "But Bumper – the leader one with no sense of when to shut up – was very cross at him for that, because apparently he 'does not like it when you undermine my authority.'" Jesse badly mimics Bumper's voice, and she smirks as he slurs the last word. "And they said we had to get crazy stupid drunk…"

She tunes him out as they walk, nodding every so often when he turns to look at her, and soon they reach her dorm. Jesse pries the keys out of her hands to unlock the door himself. When he flings open the door, he gasps, because lying there sound asleep in the darkness is Iris.

"Looks like we're going to your room," Beca whispers, easing the door closed again quietly. Jesse begins to tell her a new story about something Joel told him once – an event for which she had actually been present so already knows about – while she walks him out of the building and towards his a few minutes away.

"I miss Joel," Jesse says sadly as they walk through the door. "He was amazing."

"He's not dead you know, you don't need to refer to him in past tense."

He shrugs and pulls her impossibly closer. "Yeah, but he's so important, and I don't know, it feels like he's not with us anymore, now we've left."

Beca climbs up the stairs with him with a little difficulty. "Tell you what, when we go home for the holidays, we'll go see him every day, yeah?"

"That sounds great!" Jesse says in excitement. "Oh man, we're going to have _so _many good stories to tell him!"

"Definitely." They reach his floor and she begins to pat down his side, looking for his pocket to pull out his own keys. He jumps a little when her fingers gaze a little too far over.

"Woah, Beca, not so fast, you haven't even got me to the bed yet," he says in a sultry voice, leaning his mouth close to her ear, but she just rolls her eyes, pulling his keys out of his pocket when she finds them.

"In your dreams, Swanson."

The door is already unlocked as it turns out, because Benji is still up, sitting on his bed playing with some different coloured napkin things to do with his magic. He stands up when they enter, and Beca smiles at him in greeting as she deposits Jesse on the bed. He falls heavily, grinning at his roommate.

"Sorry Benji, you're going to have to give us some privacy, Beca is trying to get me to sleep with her," Jesse says lightly, winking suggestively. Benji looks between them nervously and Beca pushes his shoulder in disapproval.

"Like you'd even think about saying no," she tells him as he grabs her hand, lacing their fingers together loosely.

"Well, have you _seen _you?" he asks, and Beca flushes, turning to Benji to avoid seeing the way he's looking at her.

"You'll get used to all this," she says, gesturing to Jesse vaguely with her free hand, realising her mistake too late when Jesse grabs that too and pulls her to sit on his lap, resting his chin on her shoulder so he can see Benji.

"I'm sorry about the Treble's," he says quietly. Benji looks away, shrugging, but Beca see his disappointment; how hurt he is by their rejection. She bites her lip as Jesse's hand slowly makes its way around her until he's securely wrapped it across her stomach. She leans back into his chest a little, watching Benji try to form words.

"It's not even that big a deal," he finally says, forcing a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. She feels bad for him, and she's mad at that Bumper guy for not letting him in when Benji is obviously crazy talented.

"You know what will cheer you up?" Jesse says hopefully. Benji looks at him, waiting for him to continue. "Let's watch Star Wars!"

Beca pats Jesse's hand in the hopes he'll let her go. "That's me out."

But Jesse grips tighter to keep her there, and she can feel his cheek moving against her neck with his grin at Benji's confusion. "Beca hates movies," he supplies to him roommate.

Benji looks appalled. "She doesn't… Like… Movies?"

She smirks; time for payback for getting drunk without her. "Saw a porno at a high school party; I liked that movie."

Benji's eyes widen and Jesse splutters, lifting his head to try and better see her. "Beca! Why would you tell him about that?"

She just laughs at both of their expressions. "What, you find it embarrassing that we watched porn together?"

Benji's eyes grow impossibly wider and Jesse rushes to explain, his leg bouncing underneath her. "Not like _that_, Benji! We were just at this party and these guys were mucking around and we were… Within the range of the screen."

"We learnt a lot." Beca's smirk grows; she's sickly enjoying the discomfort of the two boys in the room with her.

"You are disgusting," Jesse says in a low voice. "Why am I friends with you?"

"Universal rule. You have to be friends forever with any guy you fall on top of," she quotes him and he doesn't seem to be intoxicated enough to not remember, because he chuckles, his chest vibrating against her back.

"Come on, Bee, watch one movie with us," he pleads. She looks up at Benji who nodding hopefully, and she sighs. Her weakness for Jesse is a real issue.

"Fine," she groans, "But if you draw on me again when I fall asleep, Swanson, I will kick your ass."

* * *

**Bless, how cute are they?!**

**Next chapter introduces the first dramatic turn of their friendship, so should be pretty exciting! I'm going to set about drafting it up tomorrow (today is well, technically Saturday morning, and I know I won't post this for a few more days, but so you know that my updates should be pretty regular for at least two more chapters while I work ahead of schedule).**

******Was wondering what you guys thought of the chapter lengths? I normally only do chapters that are about 2000-3000 words long, but for this story they've all so far been between 5000-7000 words. Do you guys prefer this length?**

**Also, to anyone who has seen the deleted/extended scenes: In one (set in their first training session), Beca makes a joke about sopranos, but I can't tell for definite all that she's saying. If any of you know, please leave it for me in a review or PM me, as I really want to include it! Thank you :)**


	5. Birthday Weirdo

**Thank you to everyone who helped with the joke! You're all the best :) **

* * *

**5 – BIRTHDAY WEIRDO**

The first time he called, Beca was curled up in the giant bean bag stuffed in the corner of her room. She was drinking hot chocolate and messing around on her music programme, figuring out what this option did and that button changed, and she only knew her phone was ringing because she felt the vibrations with her foot. Surprised (Beca did not receive phone calls pretty much ever), she dived for it on the floor beside her, smirking at the Caller I.D.

"What do you want, weirdo?" she answered after flipping open the phone.

"Good evening to you too, Miss Mitchell," he said in a strange posh accent. She settled back into her seat as he carried on talking. "So… I had a great time yesterday."

"You make it sound like it was a date and not actually a kidnapping."

"It wasn't a kidnapping; you willingly let me remove you from school grounds." The amusement was dripping from his voice and she rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "How much trouble did you get in?"

"Weeks' detention, not too bad. What about you?"

He chuckled lightly. "I had a reason not to be in, remember?"

"Oh." Wincing, she leant her head back, reaching lazily for her mug. "How is he?"

"It was touch and go for most of yesterday, but he made it through last night so there's hope." It went quiet, the atmosphere demure, but Beca didn't know what she could say to possibly make this all okay. "He's awake, so that's something."

"That's great news, Jesse," she said honestly, smiling a little.

"Anyway, so I just wanted to call and say thank you." The usual ease was back in his tone, the sadness fading away as he concentrated on something else. Her smile broke out into a grin as she remembered their day. After ice cream, he had taken her go karting. While not being something she thought would ever be compatible with her, she had actually immensely enjoyed herself (and beat Jesse, so a definite bonus there) and then they had eaten cheesy fries while people watching in the park. Their conversation had been light-hearted and teasing, their game of twenty questions continuing for most of it - though the questions turned into ridiculous things like 'what was the last thing you downloaded?' (Jesse's apparently hilarious retort had typically been porn) and 'how many books would it take to make you as tall as everyone else?' (which had promptly been answered with a slap to the back of the head) - and it had been refreshing to just _be_ with someone without the pressures of school or parents or anything at all; it was just her and Jesse, laughing and exchanging biting retorts and smacking his hand away when he tried to steal her fries.

"Shouldn't I be thanking you? You basically paid for the whole thing."

"That would make it a date, Bee."

The worst thing to come out of their day together? His ridiculous proposal for her nickname based off her most humiliating moment. It was not something she was going to let last long.

"Is this why you called me at" – she checked the time on her laptop – "midnight on a school night? To say thank you?"

Unfazed, she could actually hear the smirk in his reply. "Yes."

"Does that mean I can go back to sleep now?" she asked, hoping to turn him into a flustered mess at having woken her up.

Alas, that was not the case. "Oh as if you were sleeping, Beca. Girls like you do not go to bed at sensible hours."

"Nice to know I'm so predictable," she said dryly before sipping at her hot chocolate.

"Though you _should_ be sleeping," he pointed out. She sighed loudly so he could hear.

"You sound like my mother."

"You still sound like my sister." He was laughing and it made her smile despite herself. "She's just like you; point blank refuses to go bed at a sensible hour."

"You know, I'm beginning to like your sister more and more. Can I talk to her instead?"

"I don't think waking her up now will get the best response," he said in amusement.

She sighed again in exasperation. "Maybe next time."

"So there's going to be a next time?" he asked, immediately catching on to the implication she hadn't even realised she'd put across. She wanted to pinch herself for saying it without thinking; she should have known this boy would react so optimistically to anything like that.

"You'll have to kidnap me again to find out, I suppose," she replied slowly. She wanted to see him again, she knew that, but did he want to see her?

His giddy voice on the other end of the phone answered that question for her. "So you're down for visiting Joel again with me this weekend?"

She bit her lip against her smile and fought to keep her tone disinterested. "Perhaps, I'll have to check my oh-so-busy social calendar."

"That's cool, I'll wait."

For effect, she tapped loudly on the keys of her laptop, umming and ahhing for about a minute before she finally gave in. "I can do Saturday at 3?"

He laughed as he spoke. "I promise not to take up too much of your precious time."

Soon after, their call ended and Beca clutched her phone in her hands tightly, looking down at the blank screen. She pushed herself further back into the bean bag, taking a deep breath. Was having a friend normally this exciting?

* * *

The second call came a week after the second ice cream date at a crazy early hour of the morning.

"I will kill you," she promised in a husky voice as her voicebox warmed up for the day. She had no idea who was daring enough to wake her but she didn't care; whoever it was deserved to die. "I will hunt you down and put a bullet in your skull for waking me up this early."

His carefree chuckle grated against her half-asleep brain. She should have known it would be Jesse. "You are definitely not a morning person, are you?"

"No," she growled, rolling over so her nose was pressed into her pillow. Her bones felt so heavy, her body lifeless. She rested her phone awkwardly on her cheek so her hand could curl up under her duvet, pulling it closer to her chin. "Is there an actual purpose behind this call or are you just trying to get me arrested for murder?"

"As much fun as that would be, I don't really fancy dying today, so I'll go with the first option."

"And that is..?" she prompted when he went quiet.

"Hang on, I'm trying to think of one."

Groaning into her pillow, she flipped her phone shut. No way was she going to forgive him for this.

Her phone vibrated again on her mattress, and she pointedly ignored it until it rang out, rolling over so her back was to it. Closing her eyes, she was seconds away from falling asleep when her phone began to ring again. She kicked her legs childishly in annoyance but snatched the phone up, hissing angrily into the receiver, "What?!"

You're cute when you're mad," he said in a singsong voice. She was about to hang up again when he hurried to stop her. "No, wait, Beca, I'm sorry! Don't hang up!"

"Jesse, it is 7am on a Sunday, there is absolutely no reason under the sun worth me talking to you right now."

"What about if I was calling to tell you a meteor is about to crash into your house any second?"

"I'd rather die. It would be a good way to go; look great on the headstone."

"I'm being stalked down an alleyway by a serial murder?"

The corner of her mouth tugged. "Why are you calling me and not the police?"

"Fair point." There was a scuffling in the background and she heard him whisper something about 'the terror'. "What about if I was –"

"Every second you spend talking to me is a second I could be sleeping," she told him, "So please stop being an idiot and give me a reason to not have your number blocked."

His chuckle was a little wheezy down the line and then the shuffling was back, his tone serious again. "So remember when I kidnapped you for ice cream?"

"Glad you accept now that it was kidnapping," she said immediately, and he just laughed again.

"You told me about how you did The Scarlet Letter once and it was one of your favourite books." She could hear his slight hesitation, and she sighed quietly, rolling across her large bed to blindly reach for her laptop. She could already guess where this was going.

"Let me guess," she said dryly, "You haven't read it because you thought you could get away with just watching the movie, and now you can't complete your paper – which, of course, is due tomorrow morning."

He paused, and she imagined him grinning bashfully into his phone. "Basically, yes."

She logged into her laptop, staying quiet as she opened her assignment folder for the essay she had written. "Did you watch the original or the Demi Moore version?"

"Both."

"Well there's your issue, you've got all these conflicting images in your head." Pausing, she looked at the open document, deciding that if she was going to help this boy with his homework she was _definitely _going to need some coffee. She swung her legs out of bed, sliding her feet into fluffy slippers. "Alright, what is it exactly that you need my help on?"

* * *

The first time _she_ called _him_, it was to fulfil a promise. It was early December, the weather cooling outside so the wind audibly passed over the house, and she was lying in her bean bag again, staring at his contact information on her phone with her thumb hovering over the 'call' button. There was barely any light in the room, the night pressing on her window, and with a deep breath she closed her eyes and pressed down.

Predictably, he answered right after the first ring. "You almost missed it!" he said immediately, skipping the greetings (as had become customary for their phone calls, which almost always occurred at very inconvenient hours). "I thought you weren't going to call."

"I promised didn't I? Don't be such a baby, there's still two minutes," she said with a roll of her eyes, careful to keep her voice quiet. Her mother had a flight out of town in the morning, and had retired to bed an hour ago; being woken up by her 16 year old daughter chatting to a boy on the phone in the late hours of the night was not exactly what her mother needed to hear.

"Two minutes left of being sixteen, this is a big deal," he said seriously. She smirked at his childlike excitement.

"I still don't know why you aren't spending this time with your parents, or with your friends."

"Because," he sighed loudly – he had tried to explain this to her three times already, and she had accepted the (rather scary) implication from those explanations that she was _important_ somehow, but she rather enjoyed hearing him explain it anyway – and he released his proposed idea in one breath, "My friends are far too busy pretending to be grown up to care about this and my parents are sleeping but I wouldn't care even if they weren't because I know that passing the stroke of midnight with you will be fun."

Beca was fully aware that things had gotten a little… Well, she didn't know what word to use to describe exactly how things had gone with Jesse. When she met him, he was supposed to be this one night thing where he made her fall off the monkey bars and gave her the liquid courage it took to face her parents' decision on divorce. He was never supposed to pop back up again, but he did, and after that meeting in the auditorium six months after the park, he seemed to have decided they were going to become friends.

And he _was_ her friend. She didn't really know how, but somewhere between introducing him to Joel's magic ice cream abilities and the late night phone calls, she had let this nerdy, over excitable puppy of a teenage boy actually _know_ her. From a distance, anyway. She was cautious over it, because Jesse had a strange effect over her that made her say more than she meant to and made her laugh more than she was used to and overall, miraculously, she found herself smiling as she wandered the hallways at school and trying not to let her amusement at his ridiculous text messages leak into her expression in class. It was… Strange, in a good way.

Beca had never really had someone that gave a damn about her. Sure, her parents cared – or her dad did until he abandoned them – and yeah, she had people like Joel and Sandra, but Jesse was _interested _in her and it scared her - terrified her – because she didn't know how to react, to show him how grateful she was. Without realising it, this boy had helped her deal with her father leaving without ever actually talking about it, had shown her than alone wasn't necessarily protected. In the few months she had actually been talking to him, she had somehow completely lost her resolve in keeping everyone at arms length, and had unknowingly let Jesse become just as important to her as she apparently was to him.

But she didn't know how to tell him that, so instead she sarcastically said, "Good to know I'm a last resort."

"Never," he said cheekily. She checked the time. One minute to go. "So… I have an invitation for you."

"I'm not going to the movie theatre with you," she said immediately.

He sighed in exasperation. "Your avoidance of that place is unnatural. How do you_ not_ like movies?"

She smirked at how truly upset he sounded. "We've gone over this already." She checked the clock. "Thirty seconds."

"Consider it a birthday present; watch one movie with me."

"I don't like you enough for that."

"Please?" he whined, extending the word out.

"Fifteen seconds!"

"Please?"

"No."

"_Please_?"

"9 seconds."

"This is more important."

"Jesse –"

"Please!"

"5, 4 –"

"Beca…"

"2, 1."

The line went silent and she bit her lip, knowing he wasn't going to do anything until she gave in.

"Happy Birthday, Jesse," she whispered with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. He stayed silent, but she could hear a noise in the background that sounded a little like rearranging pillows. She exhaled loudly. "Fine, I'll watch the damn movie with you."

The size of his smile leaked into his voice as he finally spoke. "Beca, you're the best!"

"It's midnight, can I go now?" she replied instead. He chuckled quietly, his usual playfulness back.

"Not yet, I still haven't given you your invite yet."

"I thought that was the movie thing."

"No, that was just a bonus." She hated how smug he sounded. "The invite is for my birthday party."

"What about it?" she asked cautiously. He had mentioned it in passing when they last spoke a week ago, and by the sounds of it, it involved _a lot _of underage drinking.

"Well, Johnny is going to be there and he's bringing Sandra, so I thought perhaps having a friend would make it okay for me to invite you now there's not a 100% chance you'll say no and instead only a 96% chance."

"Sandra being there doesn't change anything, she's just going to be sucking face with Johnny all night. I'm not being the awkward third wheel."

She pulled her knees up towards her chin to get more comfortable, wincing as the moving beans below her made a loud noise. "You won't be the awkward third wheel! I'll be there! Obviously, since it's my party."

"Is that supposed to make the invite more appealing to me?" she teased.

"Come on Bee –"

"Stop calling me that –"

"It won't be half as much fun without you."

"Why would I want to go to a party full of privately taught, over privileged teens who are full of raging hormones and ridiculous quantities of alcohol?" she sighed, adding on a quick, "No offense."

"We really aren't that bad, you know. And there'll be Plainsboro people there too!"

"Oh, joy," she said dryly.

"Will you please just think about it?" he asked desperately, and she sighed again because her resolve was already waning.

"I'll go if you revoke the movie."

He gasped dramatically and she could just imagine his hand pressed to his chest, his eyes wide with shock. "You wouldn't."

"Movie or party; take your pick."

He groaned. "Beca it's my birthday, why are you being so mean?"

"It's a gift." She laughed quietly at how distressed he sounded. "You want some thinking time?"

"Yes please." And she was amazed that it took him a full _five minutes _to figure out his answer, enough time for her to slip between the sheets of her bed and settle in, ready to drift off. She thought maybe he had fallen asleep, or that he'd walked away from the phone, but just as she was finally about to ask for him he coughed, his decision made. "Party, definitely – no – no, definitely party. I chose party."

She smiled and nodded her head despite the fact he couldn't see her. "Then I guess I'll see you on Friday then."

* * *

She didn't really know what she was expecting from a Townsend house party, but this was… Surprising.

Maybe it was because she went to a public school, but she had already expected the house to basically be trashed by the time she got there (late, deliberately, in the hopes Jesse would be too drunk to notice her leaving early too). But the house was impeccable. When she approached the house in her mother's car, she wasn't surprised by the size or grandeur of it; the boy went to _private _school so she knew his parents must be minted. But what struck her when she squeezed past a group of girls with matching noses to get to the front door, was how understated the whole house was. It was all neutral colours and simple furnishings and family photos on every available surface. It was homely despite its excessive size.

And there had to be a good 200 people milling around, red cups in hand, yet there were no stains or buckets or smashed vases anywhere. From the glazed look across a good few of the people's eyes that she passed as she stumbled awkwardly through the crowds of people in the hallway, she could tell there was definitely alcohol there – and by the smell of it, maybe some pot – but everyone was respectful.

She felt like maybe, if she started dancing on the tables, a cop would appear from no where and arrest her for it. It was so strange that it was making her head feel heavy, the beat of the loud music pulsing through her.

She dived for the first door she could see on the left, finding herself in a large kitchen and dining area. The table had been transformed into a beer pong arena and rows upon rows of alcohol in a wide variety ran down the lengths of the counters. Having absolutely no idea what else to do, she reached eagerly for one of the vodka bottles in the back, pouring a generous amount in a cup and mixing it with the dregs of a large coke bottle she found hanging around.

Turning around helplessly, she let her eyes scan the crowd for the familiar scruffy hair and dark eyes. Maybe even just the blonde locks of Sandra. But every face in the sea of people hanging out in the black and white tiled kitchen wasn't even vaguely familiar to her, so she clutched her cup close to her chest, working her way towards a large doorway.

The room she was entered was nothing short of astounding. Bookshelves covered all the walls, most of them full with a vast array of books. She could spot the Harry Potter series on the wall beside her, and then stacks of children's books in the shelves below it. On the wall on her other side, thick dusty novels with hard spines and faded titles filled the spaces. A large black couch sat in the middle of the room, facing one of the smaller walls where a TV hung in the middle, the shelves there filled with a vast variety of movies. She wasn't even remotely surprised by the site of that (okay, maybe a little, because she didn't know that many movies had even been _created_) because it screamed Jesse.

Who, of course, wasn't present in that room either.

She was about to move on when a hand grabbed her wrist, and she looked up in a furious disbelief to the tall blond who smiled at her tightly. He pulled her a little closer as a pair of giggling girls stumbled by, and she promptly ripped her wrist out of his hold as she looked up to him, cursing her small height.

"You looked a little lost," he supplied loudly with a casual shrug.

"I was fine, thanks," she called hotly over the music, swallowing a mouthful of her drink for something to do. She didn't really fancy sticking around and talking to this boy, but at the same time, walking aimlessly around a house full of drunk teenagers looking for just one of them wasn't that appealing when she could just wait here for him to pass.

"I'm Freddy," he introduced, holding his hand out to her until she looked at it strangely, causing him to promptly withdraw it. He was lent towards her to better hear her and she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Beca." She swallowed another large mouthful.

"Oh! Are you Jesse's Beca?"

She looked up once again in disbelief, surprised that he knew her and also by how she was apparently now _Jesse's_? No way, bad label. "No."

He was frowning, his grey eyes skimming over her face. "You are. You're the ice cream girl."

Okay, so apparently she was known to his friends – god she hoped this Freddy guy was his friend – and she was extremely bothered by it. She didn't like that he could know things about her without actually _knowing _her. For a moment, she felt rage towards Jesse bubbling her skin. "I know Jesse, yes, if that's what you mean." _Not for much longer though._

But Freddy grinned at her and something in the back of her mind jolted, something about one of his really good friends… "He hasn't stopped talking about you for months. You've made quite the impression."

Pressing her lips together tightly, she tried to keep her embarrassment out of her tone. "The only thing I want to make is my presence known so I can go back home."

"Don't be so quick to rule out staying, it's good fun!" he said with a kind expression. "Come on, we'll go have a look around for him, he's got to be here somewhere."

"It's fine, I can find him myself." But Freddy was already pulling her by her arm again, heading back into the kitchen. She trailed behind him, searching the crowd desperately for someone she knew, but the only people she recognised where classmates she'd never spoken to nor cared about.

"Freddy, seriously –" He let go of her arm, turning back to her, only to position himself behind her as he guided her through the crowd. She tried to look around at him, and that is what let her down, because within a few seconds a set of arms were flung around her and she was being suffocated by a large hard chest.

"Beca!" a delighted voice reached her squished ears, and she relaxed a little as she recognised the smell of Jesse. Pulling out of his strong hold, she looked up at him, his smile wonky with alcohol and his eyes wide. "Beca you made it!"

"Yeah, well, it was this or a movie," she said dryly close to his ear, a large speaker thumping nearby. He plucked her partly squished cup out of her hand, sniffing its contents suspiciously before rolling his eyes and handing it to Freddy.

"Get the lady some whisky!" he called to his friend, and Freddy left with her cup to approach the drinks. She exhaled heavily, looking around at the other people in the party for something to occupy herself with.

"So…" she attempted lamely, crossing her arms over herself. She felt severely underdressed in her dark jeans and tight black sequined tank top. "Cool party…"

"Isn't it?" he replied happily, his arm falling around her shoulders. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long."

"Then you're late!" He tipped his head back to finish the last of whatever was in his cup, grinning triumphantly when he looked back to her. "But I forgive you, because now you're here the fun can really begin!"

Freddy appeared with her drink, handing it to her and laughing at Jesse's call for everyone to get to the dance floor (wherever that was). Freddy disappeared into the crowd and Jesse turned to look at her expectantly. "Come dance with me?"

Her expression very clearly stated that was not something she did. "I'm not drunk enough yet to even consider that."

She should, really, have expected his reaction of a sly smirk stretching across his face, his eyes flashing with a brilliant plan. It seemed her own plan to show her face for five minutes and then drive back home was not going to be fulfilled, as Jesse grabbed her hand messily and dragged her to the beer pong table. Nope, definitely not a chance in hell she was going to get out of this one.

* * *

Two hours later, running on the adrenaline high of six consecutive beer pong wins and a substantial amount of alcohol, Jesse was still attached firmly to her side, trying to coax her into the living room where the majority of the dancing was taking place.

"Come on, Beca," he whined, his bottom lip jutting out, as he bumped into a stray couple making out against the wall. "Just one dance with me!"

"Jesse," she giggled (she was drunk, so yes, she _giggled_). "You've had the whole night to dance with anyone you like! Take your pick!" She spun around wildly in a circle, her arms spread wide. "They're all here for you, you know!"

"I_ am_ taking my pick, and I'd like to pick you." His eyes were suddenly earnest, and his fingers wrapped around her wrists to bring them to his chest. There was a shift in the playful atmosphere between them, and she couldn't place what it was through her dizzy brain but Jesse was staring at her…

"I'm really not the best dancer," she tried weakly. His dark eyes bore into her and she found she couldn't look away.

"I really couldn't give a damn," he said honestly with a shake of his head. He switched his hands around so he was holding both of her wrists in one hand, raising the newly free one with his finger raised. "One song."

She bit her lip, trying to figure out more reasons to say no, but she couldn't think of any and honestly, she didn't really _want _to say no. She wanted to dance with Jesse and for once just enjoy herself. She wanted to let go and not be so subdued or quiet. She wanted to have _fun._

"Fi-"

He was already excitedly pulling her to the half empty room (some people had already left, and others were passed out outside or lounging along the walls) as _No Diggity _began playing, and she laughed as he whooped loudly. He began swaying his arms to the beat and he looked truly ridiculous. Though so did she, most likely, swinging her hips and putting her hands up, her straight hair falling messily over her face.

He crept towards her, biting his lip playfully as he pulled her into the classical dancing position – one arm out, the other on the waist – and he swayed them to the beat, her head falling back with laughter at how hilarious he was in that moment, his eyes glazed from alcohol and his hair ruffled messily. She was having fun; free thinking, no worries fun, the kind she never normally really had without a laptop and some scrub buttons. They collided with a few people who were too drunk to notice, and Jesse stepped away to stretch out, letting her twirl towards him.

But then her back collided with his chest, their hands still linked so his arm crossed over her, and the mood suddenly changed. All playfulness went straight out the window as his hands slide to her hips. She smiled softly, continuing to dance as he matched her, the beat echoing through their bodies.

"_I like the way you work it_," he sung quietly into her ear, his breath tickling her ear, "_No diggity, I gotta bag it up._"

A tiny, sober part of Beca was screaming at her to stop, to walk away and stop what was happening. Because she was pretty sure that dancing this way – it was moments away from becoming full on grinding, she knew – with her friend that she really hadn't known all that long was definitely not the best thing she could be doing. What they were doing crossed that unspoken line that kept Jesse as her nerdy private school friend and instead…

Well, basically lead to what was happening now.

Slowly turning her head, she sighed softly as his nose grazed along her neck. His smile was hidden in her hair, and all she wanted was to see it, so she twisted in his grip until her chest pressed into his, and there it was – his boyish grin, just for her. A hand slide up his arm over his shoulder, curling around his neck, and it vaguely occurred to her that they had stopped dancing.

He looked fleetingly between her eyes and her lips, a delicate blush gracing her cheeks as she pushed on his neck lightly to encourage him, telling him to do it; lean in, kiss her, do whatever the hell he wanted because she was turning to putty in his arms –

"Jesse! Dude, code smash in the hallway!" Freddy called over the music from the doorway, and just like that the spell was broken. Her hand shrunk away and Jesse let her go, sighing heavily as he broke their locked gaze and, without a glance back, jogged over to his friend. Freddy lingered just a little longer, his mouth twitching into an apologetic smile, and then she was left there, surrounded by those too drunk to notice how she had to gasp to catch her breath back from where Jesse stole it.

_What the fuck had just happened?_

Beca was stunned, her mind foggy with alcohol, but she very suddenly sobered as the realisation that she had been seconds away from kissing Jesse hit her square in the gut. Her. Jesse. _Kissing_. She could still feel the ghost of him, pressed against her and his lips achingly close –

She had to get out of there.

Rushing to the front door, she dodged her way around the few remaining people left, blundering past Freddy who barely had a chance to form the thought to say anything before she was gone again, stumbling out of the door into the cool air. It hit her hard and helped clear her head of that strange pressure at her temples, and left her with the completely certainty that she had to go home. Now.

She jogged down the street to her car, pulling her keys out of her pocket. Her hands shook a little as she tried to put the key in the door.

"Beca!" In her periphery, she saw Freddy rushing towards her. She ignored him, clamouring into the car, sticking the keys in the ignition so that the engine noise drowned out his calls of her name –

It should have been pretty obvious, in retrospect, that driving in the state she was in was a _very _bad idea, and really, she was thankful for about three seconds that the tree had had the courtesy of stopping her before she could leave and get into a far worse accident.

But then there was also the issue of the fact she had just wrapped her mother's car around a tree.

Her ears were ringing from the way her head whacked against the steering wheel, her vision blurring slightly, and she tried to shake it away but it just made a burst of pain ignite behind her eyes. She growled loudly, slamming her hands against the wheel in frustration. _Of course _she would crash when something like this happened. She should know by now she never had the best of luck.

"Shit! Beca!" Freddy appeared at her window, yanking at the door to pull it open, and she just looked at him helplessly as his hands flew around in the air beside her, searching desperately for any severe injuries.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she said in a strange raspy voice that didn't sound like her own. "Just- Just help me out yeah?"

Cautiously, he slid his arm under her legs, the other behind her back, and she let him lift her out of the seat. She groaned at the small crowd that had developed, and groaned louder when she saw Jesse frantically pushing his way through them all, his eyes wild.

"Beca…" He sounded helpless as he approached them. "What the fuck did you do?"

Freddy placed her slowly on her feet as she sighed, trying to down play it. "What does it look like I did?"

Beca swayed when Freddy let her go and Jesse dived for her, hands firmly on her ribs as he helped her find her balance. She avoided his gaze, instead turning to watch Freddy examine the damage. She could tell from there though that the car was a write off – the bumper had concertinaed in on itself, the hood jutting up strangely, and broken pieces of glass were scattered around on the road.

Her mother was going to kill her.

"Fuck," she muttered as her head pulsed, a hand going to her forehead. There was a strange buzzing in her ears and she couldn't quite hear everything around it.

"I'm taking you inside," Jesse said decidedly, and suddenly she was off the ground again, being carried back to the house in his arms.

"You don't need to carry me, I'm perfectly capable of walking," she said in exasperation, but her head felt really heavy and his shoulder made a really good pillow.

"Beca are you insane?" he berated, a concerned crease between his eyebrows. "You could have killed yourself!"

"It was an accident."

"You got behind the wheel when you were drunk – Fuck, shit, Beca I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault." She became heavier in his arms, letting her eyes drift close. Everything was shifting a little, and she couldn't focus on any one thing, so closing her eyes felt a little safer.

But the jostling from his frantic pacing towards the house made her stomach turn, and she slapped his shoulder desperately because the last thing she needed to be doing was vomiting all over him. "Jesse - Jesse I'm going -"

He put her down just in time for her to throw up in the brushes lining the house, one hand holding her hair while the other rubbed her back in soothing circles. The burn of stomach acid and alcohol on her throat made her gargle strangely and she spit to try and get rid of the sour taste in her mouth. After a moment, when she was sure she was done, she turned and lay her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck as he picked her up again.

"You're okay," he whispered into her ear as he walked slower, trying to keep her more still. "I've got you; you're okay."

She pressed her cheek against his neck, her head pounding, and let her eyes drift closed again. He smelled really good, and she let it relax her muscles and soothe her burning skin.

"No, Beca don't fall asleep on me. You might have concussion; I need you to stay awake." He sounded angry, demanding, but his body heat was comfortable and her head _hurt_. She just wanted the ringing to stop.

"Damien, can you call my dad?" she heard Jesse asking someone, and she opened her eyes to see she was back in the room with all the books. Jesse lay her down on the couch gently. His face was flooded with concern, and he was staring at her forehead, his thumb gingerly grazing over it. She hissed as the pain intensified and he quickly apologised.

"Shit, Beca, I'm so sorry," he muttered softly. "Don't worry, we'll get this fixed up nicely."

"Get what fixed up nicely?" she asked, but he was a little blurry and she felt scared; why was the world spinning so fast?

"It's fine, you'll be okay." A hand covered hers on her stomach and she knew that warmth, that comfort; she grasped Jesse's hand tightly. It was like her anchor, keeping her present, keeping her grounded, as she tried to figure out why no one else had complained about the buzzing or the fuzzy walls.

"Your dad's on his way, I grabbed some tissue from the bathroom." Another boy was there, leaning over her slightly, and there was a new pressure that made her gasp and grip Jesse's hand more. Someone stroked her hair and the tissue moved. She could see red. Blood. There was blood on the tissue.

"Am I bleeding?" she asked, astounded.

"You're fine, just relax," Jesse told her firmly. "Damien, could you start clearing people out? Dad really doesn't need to see all this chaos."

The boy disappeared and she turned her head to better see Jesse. He was more in focus, and she could make out his smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I ruined your birthday."

"Don't be stupid, you didn't ruin it. I had a great time."

"Had. You _had _a great time. Now I've ruined it."

His smile grew a little and she felt better that he finally seemed a little amused. "I suppose that's what I get for inviting a crazy person."

"Well take a good look because you're not going to see me again." She winced as he pressed the tissue back to her forehead. "My mother is going to kill me. Repeatedly."

"She'll just be glad you're okay," he reasoned, but she shook her head, wincing as the pain increased.

"Jesse, she only just forgave me for stealing the damn thing at the end of the summer. Now I've totalled it – if she doesn't kill me, I'll probably just never be allowed to leave the house."

"Stop worrying about that now, let's just focus on making sure you're okay."

"Your dad really doesn't have to come you know –"

"Yes, he does. He can help, he'll know what to do." She sighed, looking away to the wooden floors. Jesse's eyes were so intense that it made it a little hard to breathe.

"This isn't really how I like to meet my friend's parents," she muttered, but he just chuckled quietly from beside her, waving off her complaints easily.

Ten minutes later, Jesse's dad arrived, ignoring the mess of empty bottles and used cups that littered his home to head straight for her. He had a friendly face, his hair dark and his eyes expressive, and the second he saw his son crouched next to Beca, her make up a mess and an ugly bruise forming around the cut on her forehead, he dove immediately into action.

"Jesse, go get my kit from my study." He was in full on doctor mode, crouching over her to better see the cut. "Freddy, can you call the garage to move the car, and Damien, make sure everyone is sent home safely." He smiled gently at her. "It's nice to finally meet you, Beca. Though not so much under these circumstances."

"I'm so sorry," she said unhappily. "I don't know what I was thinking –"

"Don't you worry about a thing, I'm not here to judge, just to make sure you're okay." Jesse appeared again with a large case and as soon as he'd put it down, he disappeared from view. She panicked for a moment, but then he appeared again, leaning over the back of the couch to hold her hand so he wasn't in his father's way. She felt bad for all the guilt and concern in his eyes, how he looked so anxious, but she didn't know how to fix it. She didn't know how to fix any it.

So she just looked back to him, offering him a small smile and squeezing his hand tightly, hoping that would be enough for now.

* * *

**Yes, giant bean bags do actually exist. Yes, Beca has a flip phone (remember we're going back a few years here!). I chose the Scarlet Letter because of Easy A (love that movie more than life) and because I know nothing about the American Education system and what books they do and whatever. Another yes; freddy is back, because I'm far too lazy to create hundreds of OCs and I love Freddy so accept his presence. **

**Also, apologies for how melodramatic the whole party was. I needed the car crash for what happens in the next bit and I needed to make _No Diggity_ important (yes, it's still in the riff off, which is also featured in the next chapter).**

**I apologise for how behind I am in replying to reviews. I'm getting there, I promise, I've just been a bit busy recently. Still, please keep reviewing! They always make me smile, and cheered me up immensely when I was lying in bed ill after posting the last chapter. I'm pretty sure they're the reason I'm much better now :) magic reviews!**


	6. Memories In The Moonlight

**I don't know how this chapter became this way, so I'm sorry.**

* * *

**6 – MEMORIES IN THE MOONLIGHT**

She wakes the next morning with Jesse's arm draped over her calves, his head still in her lap from where he had fallen asleep last night. Benji isn't in the room anymore and Jesse's laptop lies discarded on the floor, the power button flickering dimly as it sleeps. She's hot from the extra body heat and uncomfortable from sleeping in her jeans, yet she can't help smiling softly at how Jesse sleeps peacefully against her at the foot of the bed, his lips parted slightly and his hair a bit of a disaster.

Not really wanting to wake him up and let him experience what is likely to be a very large hangover, she pulls a pillow out from underneath her and carefully slides herself out from beneath him, placing the pillow under his head to replace her thigh. She had been surprised last night when he had lain down during the movie, quickly drifting off in her lap in a way that effectively trapped her from leaving. When the movie finished Benji had gotten into his bed, and Beca had settled awkwardly, careful not to move too much, while scrolling casually through websites on his laptop until she felt tired enough to sleep.

Stretching out her sore muscles, she spots the time on Benji's Star Wars clock, and she curses; she's going to be late for her first Bellas practise if she doesn't hurry back to her room.

Jesse stirs, groaning brokenly as he presses a hand to his forehead. He opens a lazy eye to see her pulling on her boots, and he releases a heavy breath. "You're going?"

"I have to," she says quietly, "I have Bella's rehearsals all day and I'm going to be late."

He rolls over so his back is to her, and she thinks he's gone back to sleep until she eases the door open a few minutes later and he mutters, "Enjoy your walk of shame."

Thankfully, she isn't late to rehearsals. She races through her shower and throws on any clothes she can find, touching up her smudged make up from the night before, but she makes it to the gymnasium-turned-rehearsal-space with about a minute to spare (a fact she learns from Jessica's arrival three minutes after their 10am start where Aubrey growls at her for being tardy). Beca busies herself with casting a judgemental eye over the group photos of all the old Bella's (if that's the uniform she has to wear, she thinks she might just die of embarrassment. Lord knows what Jesse is going to say about it when he sees her wearing it).

"Man, the old Bella's was hot," Cynthia Rose says wistfully as she examines the framed photos on the large wheeling board.

"Yeah, they kept it tight," Amy replies casually from beside her.

"Okay! Sopranos in the front and altos at the back," Aubrey says to them all, calling the first Bella's meeting to order.

"Hey, how do you know a soprano's is at your door? Because she can't find her key and she doesn't know when to come in!" Beca holds her hand up for a high five but Aubrey just stares at her like she's a piece of dog shit on her shoe. Evidently, the girl has no sense of humour. Or Jesse's drunken jokes from the night before really aren't as funny as he thought they were (though she'd laughed pretty hard, once Benji had explained what a soprano actually was). So instead, she walks over to Lilly and asks to sit beside her.

"As you can see," Aubrey begins, gesturing to one of the chairs at the front and taking it away. "Cory is not here. Last night she was Treble-boned. She has been disinvited from the Bella's."

"That oath was serious?" Beca asks in disbelief. Jesse's face springs up in her mind, but she brushes it away before the thought can form. Seriously, why can she not stop thinking about that boy?

"Dixie Chick serious." Aubrey is glaring at her again, and Beca fights to keep her expression under control. "You can fool around with whoever you want to, just not a Treble."

"That's not going to be easy." Stacie gestures to her shorts. "He's a hunter."

"You call it a dude?" she asks, trying to figure out why she's not made the effort with this girl yet. She seems pretty awesome.

"Stacie," Aubrey says condescendingly, looking down on the brunette. "The Treble's don't respect us, and if we let them penetrate us, we are giving them our power."

Beca can't stop the shocked smile breaking out over her face, because _is this girl for real? _Fat Amy raises her hand, saying, "Not a good enough reason to use the word penetrate." Beca whole-heartedly agrees.

"So," Aubrey continues, walking across the space in front of them. "Does anyone have anything to confess?"

Beca slouches a little further in her chair, looking around for anyone who might raise their hand. She's almost tempted to say she has something to confess just to get out of this thing – those uniforms, this bitch in front of her, the insanity of acapella in general… Is it really worth all the hassle? Aubrey's gaze is flickering between her and Mary Elise. She raises her eyebrows at how accusing the blonde's eyes are; is she serious?

"It was an accident," Mary Elise admits unhappily, caving first. "I –"

"Turn in your scarf and go," Aubrey says like she's actually _upset _by the whole thing. Beca looks to Chloe, who is looking down at the ground, trying not to be involved. Beca sits up straight as Aubrey stares at the poor girl impatiently until she finally unties her scarf from her bag, handing it over and getting up to leave. "Take your chair."

Mary Elise drags her chair across the ground as she walks away, the group shifting uncomfortably as they realise all that they might lose if they fool around with a Treble. Beca looks between Mary Elise's retreating form – shaking with tears – and Aubrey's stern stare in disbelief. She can't understand what just happened.

"Was that necessary?" she splutters.

"This is _war_, Beca," she says gravely, "One you are evidently not committed to fighting for."

Beca's mouth drops open; this girl could not possibly get any worse, right? "What?"

"Don't think I didn't see you leave all snuggled up with Jesse last night," she accuses, stepping towards her with her lip curled. The group shift to look at her in amazement. A few even look like they agree with her. "You need to _leave_."

Beca stands up; she's not about to let this bitch get the better of her. "I didn't leave with Jesse; I walked him home because he was drunk! Not that I should have to explain this to you, Aubrey, but Jesse is my _friend_, and if you think being a member of this group is more important than my friendship with him, you need to have your head checked."

Aubrey flushes with anger and Chloe puts a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down as the girl actually _gags_ around her retort. Chloe starts whispering to her, something about the year before, and Lily raises her hand hesitantly. "What happened last year?" Beca thinks she says, before muttering something that she really hopes she misheard.

The video of the Bella's last shot at being national champions is soon played to the group via Lily's tablet, and Aubrey watches them laugh at her helplessly. She calls their attention back with a clap of her hands, trying to play off the humiliation the best she can, and it seems she has decided to forget about Beca's outburst because she perseveres with the mission of the meeting.

"Now, this is how we will become champions." Aubrey spins around a large white board, covered in blue pen and words Beca doesn't know even exist until she reads them there. "First thing's first, we need a vocal percussionist! Does anyone know how to beat box?"

"Yeah, I do," Amy says immediately, raising her hand high above her head proudly. Beca already has the feeling this isn't going to go down well with Aubrey. "I'm the best beatboxer in Tasmania - with hair," she explains casually as she walks to the front. "Okay, I'll give you a demo."

What happens after that is something Beca thinks she might never forget, just for the sheer hilarity of it all. Amy, as she predicted, cannot beat box - like _at all_ – and Aubrey is so horrified that for a moment she is stuck just staring at her as Amy begins saying things like "Explosions!" and "All the animals are dead." Aubrey stops her finally and Amy just heads back to her seat with a proud grin, giving Beca a thumbs up as Beca struggles to calm herself down.

"We will practise every day for at least 2 hours; 7 days a week, and I will trust you will add your own cardio."

"Why cardio?" she asks before she can hold it back, her humour from Amy's performance swiftly wiped from her expression.

"No, don't put me down for cardio," Amy says quickly.

"Okay moving on." Aubrey nods to Chloe, who begins to hand out papers to everyone. "This is a list of all the songs we've ever performed, and you will notice we only do songs made famous by women."

Beca looks through the list; this is definitely all one giant mistake. "There's nothing from this century here…"

"Because we don't stray from tradition," Aubrey replies like it's obvious, but she struggles to meet her eye which just makes her smirk as she busies herself turning the page. "Our focus is on perfecting our repertoire, which is why we are the best all female group in the country."

Beca thinks about the video and wonders how any group can be _worse_.

"Now!" Aubrey grabs a stick as she walks over to the white board. "Let's start with some vocal warm ups, practice scales, followed by arpeggios, and then work our way up to choreography. Any questions?"

Stacie raises a hand, oblivious to how Aubrey seems astounded that someone dare speak up. "Yeah, I think you said something about spagettios and I'm starving… When's lunch?"

Beca slouches back in her chair as Aubrey mutters a "God help me". For the first time today she might actually agree with the blonde; it's going to be a long day.

* * *

Beca's steps are heavy as she walks down the hallway to her room. She's aching everywhere, and she's starving after Aubrey refused to let her sit with Amy and eat pizza while everyone else ran in circles. She's tired and irritable from Aubrey's confrontation, though she's not sure if that's because the blonde had the balls to bring Jesse up again, or because she's actually right; she definitely has a 'toner' her best friend.

Which is the thought that makes her kick her door open with a little bit too much force, and is why she lets the harsh question slip between her lips. "What the hell are you doing?"

Jesse's mouth is frozen mid-laugh as he lounges on Iris's bed, a laptop set up between them. Beca, who is unaware her roommate is capable of being anything other than rude and basically silent, is amazed at how she can actually _see_ Iris's teeth as she grins. A surge of something she refuses to acknowledge as jealousy hits her and Beca frowns at them.

"Hey, Bee!" Jesse says enthusiastically after a beat of awkward silence. "You were late back, so Iris let me wait here. We were just watching this video of the Bella's last –"

"Yeah I've seen it." Beca dumps her stuff on her bed, and in true Jesse style he notices immediately that something is wrong, because he's off the bed and beside her in seconds.

"You okay?" he asks softly, grabbing her shoulders so she's facing him. Beca's eyes flicker to Iris, whose green eyes are watching them intently, and he seems to get the message because he drops a hand to lace their fingers together and grabs his jacket from her bed. She's never been more grateful for him and his uncanny abilities to constantly know how she's feeling. "Wanna go back to mine and watch Benji do some magic?"

"Sounds great."

Jesse waves to Iris as they leave, and they walk towards the exit hand in hand in a comfortable silence. Beca thinks about Aubrey's warning: "_He's a Treble now, don't let him get too close. He will betray you if he has to._" She has never wanted to punch a girl more than in that moment.

"So what's got that brain of yours in such a state?" he asks after as they walk through the afternoon sun, their hands swinging lazily between them. She sighs heavily, because she can't exactly tell Jesse that she's pissed off at Aubrey for so quickly calling her out on her feelings for her unsuspecting best friend. That would involve actually _telling_ him she has feelings to begin with.

"It's nothing," she says finally, looking out on the people lounging on the grass.

"No it's not. Come on, you can tell me. Is it the bitch?"

"She's just a pain."

He tugs at her hand a little to get her to look at him again, the corner of his mouth turning down in concern. "What'd she do?"

"She didn't –"

"Beca, I know that look." He raises his eyebrow to further his point. "That is your I-want-to-cut-a-bitch look."

Beca can't help letting her emotionless mask slip into a smile. "There is no way that's a thing."

He laughs as he says, "I'm serious! Come on, Bee, tell Jesse all about it."

"Beca doesn't want to talk about it to Jesse," she responds with a roll of her eyes. "Can we sit on the grass instead? It's too nice a day to sit indoors."

She takes his jacket from him to sit on and he stares down at her for a moment before dropping down beside her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Maybe this can be our new spot."

She looks around them, taking in the scenery and the people running around in a circle. "I don't know, it's not as nice as our old one."

He leans back on his elbows, shutting his eyes as he lets the sun warm his face. She takes the opportunity to take in the planes of his face, the strength of his jaw, the arch of his eyebrows. He's lost that last bit of baby fat since she first met him, and it makes him more handsome, sure, but he also looks older in a way that doesn't quite fit the way his eyes sparkle with childish amusement or his grin is full of boyish humour.

As she stares, she can't help letting her mind wander back to when they first became friends. To this day she can't quite figure out how he so easily inserted himself into her life, and the way he got her to trust him after only a few months. She guesses that perhaps it was the nature of their initial meeting, the way she had opened up because he was a stranger she never knew she'd see again. Maybe it was the way he always seemed so interested in what she had to say. Maybe it was the way he had held her after seeing her for the first time in a month following the events of his birthday party junior year.

"You're staring again," he mutters, bringing her back to Earth. "Would you just tell me already and get it over with?"

Looking down at her hands in her lap, her legs crossed underneath her, she tries to think of something to tell him that will evade the truth without being obvious enough for him to notice the lie. "Did you know that when the Bella's recruit you, they make you take an oath?"

"I've heard that the oath is… Interesting," he says hesitantly. He opens his eyes to see her worrying her lip a little. "What, did Aubrey make you swear to stay away from me?" he jokes, but the smile falls off his face when he sees her glance away and he splutters, "She did? Seriously?"

"Not exactly," she hedges. She lays back so she doesn't have to look at him but he rolls to his side, his head propped up on his hand. "We have to swear to 'never have sexual relations with a Treble or may my vocal chords be ripped out by wolves' or something."

He smirks at her quoting, his shoulders shaking as he laughs softly. "That is ridiculous." But then he pauses, looking past her. "Though would actually explain a lot."

Ignoring his last comment, she shrugs. "I suppose."

"I bet she's the wolf. She's probably some kind of werewolf – would explain her moodiness."

Beca can't help laughing at the mental image of Aubrey exploding into a deranged, rabies infected wolf. "You watch way too many movies."

He ignores her comment, looking down at her again in interest. "So why's it bothering you so much?"

Her breathing shallows for a moment at the connotations behind his question, but she plays ignorant and shrugs again. "I don't know, she's just very obviously against us being friends."

"It's hardly any of her business," he scoffs, lying down beside her so their arms are touching. His little finger loops around hers and she knows she really ought to start discouraging this kind of touching. It does her racing heart no good and is most definitely the reason Aubrey is breathing so hard down her neck.

So she casually pulls away her hand to reach for her phone, pretending to check the time. "She saw us leave last night, think she got the wrong idea," she tells him, shading her screen from the sun to read the time. Quarter to four. They need to be leaving for the station soon.

"She thinks we slept together?"

"Yeah."

"Well, _technically_ we did," he teases, and she swings her hand at him so her knuckles hit his ribs. He just laughs. "Still, an oath seems a bit excessive. I know the groups don't get on but…"

"I told her to keep her nose out of my business." Beca pockets her phone, and the second her arm is back at her side his little finger is at it again. She lets him this time, because she's weak to pretty much anything to do with Jesse.

"Who knows? Maybe we can pull a bit of a Romeo and Juliet and get them to bond again." He turns his head to look at her but she keeps her eyes on the cloudless sky above her, thinking instead about how the shirt he's wearing is almost the exact same shade as the sky.

"I'm not committing suicide just so two acapella groups can make nice," she says dryly.

"Okay, so maybe more Taylor Swift's version of the story," he reasons, and she swallows hard around the lump in her throat.

"I'm not marrying you for them either," she jokes, but her voice is tight and it doesn't sound right. His pinkie tightens a little around hers and the effect of it all is too much, so she promptly sits up and brushes herself down to make sure there's no grass in her hair. "Come on, we have a shift at the station. We're gonna be late."

When she stands up and shakes off his jacket, he's still lying there, staring at her strangely, and she can't figure out what's hiding there in his expression. So instead, she holds out her hand, and he takes it, pulling himself up without her help but holding onto her hand for a second too long. She looks away first, because if he looks at her that way for a second longer she's going to make a fool of them both in front of all the people milling around.

"Come on, your favourite hobby awaits," she encourages with a weak smile, and together they walk towards the other side of campus, her hands clasped safely under his jacket to keep him from touching her again.

* * *

Something ringing disturbs her reading (because yes, she does actually try a little at her classes, just enough to stop her dad freaking out at her again) and she is confused when she sees her phone is still until she spots the little blue box on her computer screen. A grin stretches across her face when she recognises the profile picture, and she throws her book to the side so she can sit in her chair, quickly answering the video call.

"Freddy!" she says happily as his face appears on her screen, his blonde hair somehow brighter with the baking sun he is no doubt lapping up, his skin a little darker and despite his crappy webcam she can see his eyes flashing in excitement at seeing her.

"Hey there, Mitchie," he greets with a happy smile. "How's Georgia treating you?"

She shrugs half-heartedly. "Not as good as LA would but I'm surviving I suppose. How's Arizona?"

"It's great, really, no complaints." His smile grows. "Well, apart from the fact you're not here with me!"

She laughs. "Blame my dad for picking the wrong side of the US to move to."

"Is my boy there?" he asks, and he frowns when Beca's smile falls a little. "What happened? Did you guys fight?"

"No, no," she assures him immediately. "He just… I don't know, he's just been a bit…"

"Yeah, tell me about it." Freddy grimaces. "I haven't spoken to the guy for about a month."

Immediately, her brow furrows. "He said he spoke to you last week." He shook his head and that weird twisting in her stomach she'd been experiencing since she noticed Jesse's strange behaviour starts again. "I don't know what's going with that dude, but something is off."

"Well if he's not telling you it must be serious."

But she's shaking her head before he's finished his sentence. "No, he always tells me the serious stuff. The fact he's not telling me means he's –"

"Mean's he's what?"

She spins in surprise to see Jesse poking his head around her door, and she can tell by his expression that he hasn't been there long enough to know what they're talking about. Without even registering what she's doing she's up out of her seat, throwing her arms around him.

"Wow, okay, who died?" he jokes, not used to such actions from her. She pulls away and slaps his arm hard, glaring at him.

"Where have you been? I haven't heard from you since yesterday, you missed your shift this afternoon, and Freddy just told me you haven't spoken to him in a month!"

He shifts awkwardly, his gaze on the floor for a beat before he wanders over to her desk, waving at his old friend. "What's up!"

"Hey there, stranger," Freddy greets, a tightness to his mouth when he plasters a smile on. "Where you been?"

Jesse just shrugs. "Here and there." He turns to Beca who is still standing where he left her, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, and he pats his thigh. "Come on, don't be such a grump, you're wasting our Freddy time."

Dropping her arms, she perches on his knee and looks back to Freddy. Jesse's arm goes around her waist and she drapes hers around his neck to keep her balance.

"There we go, that's the picture I'm used to seeing," Freddy says with a more genuine smile.

"Seriously, where have you been?" she asks, staring at Jesse's face on the screen in the little box in the corner.

She feels him shrug, seeing it happen half a second later. "I just had a paper to do for my music theory class, is all. Why, were you worried?" he teases.

"Hardly."

His other arm lays across her thighs and she feels that thing in her chest she had felt on the grass three weeks ago. "You were totally worried."

"Get over yourself."

"Look at you too," Freddy croons. "Such an old married couple."

Beca rolls her eyes and Jesse grins at the screen. "Beca won't marry me, she told me so."

"Speaking of Beca…" Freddy raises his eyebrows. "I hear someone's an acapella girl now."

She groans, hiding her face with her hand, turning to Jesse to mutter, "I can't believe you told him."

"Oh he didn't," Freddy corrects, "Damien told me."

"Damien knows?"

"Who found out from Phillipa."

"Does _everyone _know?" she asks in exasperation, appalled that the extra-curricular activity she had been forced into choosing was actually common knowledge among their friends.

"Basically." Freddy's smirk is full of a dangerous amount of pleasure at her discomfort, and Jesse is vibrating beneath her with the effort to not laugh.

"I fucking hate you," she seethes to Jesse, who is trying – and failing – to look innocent.

"I didn't realise you were that ashamed!" he says through his laughter. She can see on the screen that she has a face full of thunder, but her friends are immune to her glares as they just laugh at her.

"Freddy, do you see what Georgia is doing to me? I'm having to humiliate myself to get myself to LA; how is that fair?"

Jesse quietens and Freddy tries to calm himself down enough to respond. "You could have picked a different club."

"Jesse tricked me into it," she whines. "It's not my fault."

"Did he make _another_ bet with you?" She nods and Freddy rolls his eyes. "You gotta stop falling for that, Mitchie. When have your bets ever gone well?"

"She's just mad because she knows she's going to lose," Jesse says smugly. "And she's going to end up with another tattoo thanks to your truly."

She looks at him pointedly, tapping the back of his shirt just under his shirt line. "Excuse me, says the boy with my initials."

He smirks and turns back to Freddy who is watching them in amusement. "She has to get a bee on her hip," he explains, and Freddy laughs again. He doesn't know the reason behind Jesse's relentless teasing of Beca using bees, but he does know how much it winds her up.

"And when _I _win," she says pointedly, "he has to get my face on his arm."

Freddy gapes at her a little. "Now this is far more interesting than the last one!"

Jesse shrugs. "I'm not worried, her group are terrible."

She silently agrees – the evidence is plain to see at their rehearsals, as well as the horrific display at their first concert two weeks before that Jesse still hasn't let her live down – but she's not about to give in so easily. "Just you wait, I think we're going to surprise you and your precious Treble's at Regionals."

"You can try and surprise me next week at the Riff-Off," he says easily, but she twists suddenly at his words, shock colouring her cheeks pink.

"What the fuck is a Riff-Off?!"

Jesse looks just as surprised at her ignorance, but his face breaks into a delighted grin quickly. "Oh wow, I really have this bet in the bag."

Freddy is shaking his head on screen. "You guys are insane. Who let you go to college together?"

Jesse says, "Beca made me!" at the same time as Beca says, "He stalked me here."

Freddy just laughs, leaning back in his seat. "Like I said, you guys are insane."

* * *

Beca is in the middle of the abandoned pool with her arms awkwardly crossed, standing on the edge of the Bella's as they buzz excitedly about the competition. Aubrey had finally informed them of the acapella showdown the day after Jesse told her about it, and the week had been full of preparation and fragile mental states as Beca repeatedly had to persuade herself to _not _punch the blonde bitch in the nose.

She's arrived a little later than the rest of her team – than all of the teams actually, who are spaced out around the inside of the pool, the spectators sitting around the top – so half the girls are already a little tipsy from the cheap beer they have gotten somewhere. She smiles tightly at Cynthia Rose who lets her swig a little from her bottle, getting sucked into a conversation with Stacie that is really not her cup of tea, but keeps her occupied enough to stop her from glancing across the dimly lit pool to where Jesse is standing with the rest of the Treble's.

She knows that there's probably a good explanation as to why her best friend hasn't spoken to her for three days but – no, there's not, because there is no excuse good enough to warrant the fact that she's gone so long without seeing him. She's mad – furious – because going so long without speaking when they live three minutes away from each other is… It shouldn't be possible, but apparently it is, because Jesse hasn't called or text her; hasn't visited; hasn't even shown up at the station. Luke had told her that he called in sick, which she knew was a giant fat _lie _because she had tried to visit him yesterday. Benji had informed her that his roommate was in perfect health, and had just simply been out a lot – with her, Benji had presumed, until he saw the hurt in her eyes.

So now she is just pissed off, and has absolutely no desire to be anywhere near him.

Jesse, who has never been good at taking a hint when it comes to her pointedly ignoring him, calls out her name across the pool when he finally spots her. It echoes back to her three times, and she knows she can't just pretend not to have heard because Stacie is nudging her to try and avert her attention. So she takes a deep breath before turning slowly on her heel to see him walking towards her – in the process, apparently breaking some kind of rule to never mix with the other groups, judging by the way Bumper and Aubrey are glaring at him – and he's got this ridiculous grin across his face that makes her realise how much she's missed him.

_Stupid Jesse and his stupid smile_...

To avoid making it super awkward she steps away from the Bella's and towards him so they meet roughly in the middle. He goes to hug her right up until he realises her stern glare is aimed at him, when his smile falters and his arms fall back to his side.

"I'm sorry, Bee," he says immediately, "I know I've been –"

"A really sucky friend?" she finishes for him. "A douchebag? A terrible person in general?"

He opens his mouth but cuts off the thought before he can say it, instead admitting, "I deserve that."

"Damn right you do!" she yells, but she works to keep her voice quiet when several people look over at them in alarm. "This is the second time in a week you've just disappeared on me, and don't even _think _about blaming it on a stupid paper because I spoke to Benji –"

"Relax, Beca, seriously you don't need to be so worked up," he says in a soothing voice, but it just makes her angrier because he's treating her like a child. He grabs her hands but she pulls them away, and he simply tries again with a gentler touch. "I've been bogged down with rehearsals for tonight with the Treble's, that's all. When I'm not in class I've been with them, and I knew Luke wouldn't accept that excuse so I told him I was sick. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

Her anger is ebbing away by the second as she sees the sincerity on his face, but she wants to cling to it, to prove how _not okay _she is with him just disappearing. "You could have called," she says bitterly, but her hands are twisting without her consent and lacing together with his.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry." He pulls her into a hug and she lets him wrap his arms around her. "I promise, I'll check in with you every hour if that's what you need me to do."

"Don't be an idiot," she mumbles into his chest.

"Beca!" her name reverberates sharply around them and she pulls away to see Aubrey looking on the brink of a murderous rampage at how Jesse's hand is pressing against the small of her back. She looks back at him with a weak apologetic smile, walking back over to her group.

"Yes, Aubrey?" she says with a voice full of fake sweetness. It just seems to spur the blonde on as she starts hissing at her about whatever her issue is.

"You can't just hug a _Treble _right before a competition! Are you actually trying to let them disrespect us more? You took an oath -"

Beca crosses her arms, rolling her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not sleeping with Jesse?"

"No," Aubrey says with a shake of her head. "You took an oath to fulfil the duties and responsibilities of a Bella woman. That includes not fraternising with the enemy!"

"Jesse isn't the enemy, he's my friend," Beca argues back in the quietest voice she can manage. Chloe appears, putting a hand on one of their shoulders.

"Girls, please, lets not fight right now. We have a Riff-Off to win."

As if on cue, Justin walks into the middle of the pool, the BU Harmonics making a loud siren noise. "Welcome to the Riff-Off!" The crowd cheer loudly as he holds his arms out – apparently he's a pretty big deal. "Our 17th annual singing competition: Elimination style!"

A few people cheer in the crowd and Beca is amazed at the amount of tension suddenly present in the pool area. Aubrey and Chloe are gearing up, paying their full attention to what he's saying, and the Treble's are intent on his every word. Beca steps forward to hear a little better.

"The winners get the greatest prize of all!" He holds up a microphone and says something to do with Hoobastank, and she raises an eyebrow at how everyone cheers like this is the best thing in the world. "To win, you must steal the song from the other group by picking off a word that they are singing and make it the first word of your song."

"Hey, this is really intricate…" Cynthia Rose clutches her bottle tightly as she tries to talk to Aubrey, who promptly shuts her down.

"If you can't think of a song you are" – he claps twice – "cut off. If you repeat a song, you are" – everyone claps twice – "cut off. And most of all, if you suck you are…"

"Cut off!" everyone calls. Beca looks around in amazement; how are they so into this?

"Who's ready to get vocal?!"

The crowd cheer again as Jesse catches her eye, mouthing, "You're going down."

She shakes her head, smirking smugly at him and mouths back, "Bring it."

He laughs and she circles a spot on her arm. His face drops into a serious expression and he taps his hip. "We'll see," he mouths as Justin begins to talk again.

"Let's see, our first category…" Justin holds a small projector up to the wall, a spinning wheel there full of different categories. "…Ladies of the 80's!"

Aubrey squeaks and begins to run forward, but the Treble's beat her to it, smoothly entering a strong rendition of _Mickey_. Aubrey returns to the group disgruntled and Beca can't help the disbelieving smile on her face as she watches Jesse, Bumper, Donald and a guy with a unicycle – of all things – in his hand bounce to the beat, Jesse winking cheekily at her.

A girl from the BU Harmonics cuts in with the same hand gestures Justin had shown them – apparently, it's a thing you have to do – and enters into _Like a Virgin. _A guy with a pale blue jumper needlessly hanging over his shoulders joins her and soon the whole group are supporting it. Beca crosses her arms, watching in true astonishment. There is no way she is getting involved in this.

"They all look like virgins, don't they," Amy whispers to her, and she snorts a little on her laughter as Aubrey begins whispering around to them. Beca has no idea what she says but Aubrey struts confidently out into the pool, cutting off the other team and beginning to sing.

"_Like the one in me, that's okay._" The Bellas look at each other excitedly and Beca decides to stay hidden in the back as the rest begin to join in. "_Let's see how you do it, pull up your dukes lets get down to it…_"

They are quickly interrupted by a girl in a beanie who looks high as a kite, who the crowd take great delight in cutting off and out of the competition. The wheel spins as they walk back to their spot, and Beca turns to Chloe, asking "So we just pick any song that works? And just go with it?"

"Yeah," Chloe says as she nods.

The wheel lands on 'Songs About Sex' and Beca tries hard to hide her splutter of laughter at how Aubrey's face falls, but then Cynthia Rose is pushing herself through them singing Rihanna and Beca is reminded again how good a voice the girl has.

"_'Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it_," she sings as Stacie joins her, the two dancing close together as the Treble's watch, and the group comes forward to join in. Beca join in awkwardly, rolling her eyes as Jesse smirks at her.

"_-Sex, baby, lets talk about you and me_," Donald interrupts, and Stacie stands firm as the Treble's converge on her, completely unimpressed by it all. Aubrey tries to pull her away, but Stacie isn't finished, as she walks back to cut him off.

"_Let's talk about sex, let's talk sex baby –"_

_"All through the night I'll make love to you_," she sings confidently, and Amy walks up to join in. Beca watches Stacie very obviously flirting with Donald through song, and then, oh no –

"_And I guess it's just the woman in you…"_

Jesse's singing.

"_...That brings out the man in me!"_

He's singing their song from prom night.

She has to catch her breath quickly as Stacie walks away with a pout on her face, and he's actually _pointing _at her as the Treble's start to create the back beat. She keeps her arm crossed to stop herself running and jumping him, and instead just rolls her eyes, as she tries to suppress her smile at the memory.

He's not getting away with this.

He can't just stand there, grinning at her as he sings _that_ song, and not expect her to retaliate. He's challenging her, daring her to step out of her box and actually get involved, and she hates that it's working, because she wants nothing more than to interrupt him and show him up for the real chump he is.

He starts playing with his jacket, goading her, and she blows him a kiss, because he has absolutely no idea what he's just done to her.

"_It feels like the first time, it feels like the very first time…_"

She smiles to herself, her plan set, and takes the leap, running towards him without a word of warning to her team.

"_It feels like the first time –"_

_"It never felt so good, 'cause I can feel it coming over me, I wouldn't stop it if I could_," she sings, and he steps back a little at the power of her voice, someone cheering for her on the sides. He's smirking at her as she sings, accepting her challenge. He knows what she's doing and he's ready to fight to the bitter end. "_When love takes over, yeah, you know you can't deny._"

Stacie steps up, beginning to support her with the song, but Beca barely notices.

"_When love –"_

_"Love is true with you is where I wanna be_," he cuts her off, and he winks at her when her cocky smile falters at the memory behind this song. "_Girl you need someone, someone like me, yeah. To satisfy your every need._" She raises her chin defiantly, determined not to let him beat her, and the Treble's encroach on her, but she's just watching him singing, blowing hair out of her face like this doesn't affect her in the slightest.

"_I don't see nothing wrong, with a little bump and grind_," he sings to her with a cheeky smile as Donald provides the beat. He rolls his hips a little and she sighs loudly, looking away into the distance, waiting for her moment.

"_You say he's not treating you –_"

"_You were gonna make me cry._" He laughs at her choice, because she's digging right back in their archives for this one, but he keeps his ground as she sings, including little dance moves as she gets into it, the Bella's already behind her to create the backing track. "_That's okay baby 'cause in time you will find, what goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around._"

He's smirking differently and she know she knows he has his next attack. "_Now girl, I _–"

"_I just can't say no, never see them coming I just watch them go._" He plays with his jacket again and she can't quite believe he's singing this song, that he's forcing her to relive the god-awful embarrassment of where it comes from.

"_Girls, girls, girls, I just can't say no…_"

Aubrey groans from behind her and pulls at her sleeve, and Beca turns her back to walk away because there's only one option left, and she knows it'll work but should she risk it?

Yes. Obviously.

She's not getting a damn bumble bee tattoo.

_"Makin' me sweat, girl run that show, it's –"_

_"It's going down, fade to Blackstreet, the homies got RB, collab creations,_" she begins to rap, relishing in how his smug smile is quickly wiped off by a stunned wide eyed look. She keeps going, waving him back as a knowing smile starts to spread across his face. He knows the relevance. He knows exactly what she's doing.

Except no one is joining in with her, and she turns as he lets out a shocked breath, the Bella's just staring at her in amazement. They had never seen her put so much effort in, and their stares are empty, their mouths open with unspeakable shock.

"_Still moving this flavour, with Blackstreet and Teddy, the original rump shakers…_"

She looks around her, the embarrassment beginning to kick in, and she casts a panicked glance at Jesse, who just nods, saying, "Keep going."

She's not about to lose this fight, so she takes a deep breath and lets rip.

"_Shorty get down, good Lord_," she begins, finally hearing a cheer from somewhere around, "_Baby got 'em up open all over town_…"

Finally coming to her aid, Amy steps forward as she realizes the song, joining in with the words, and it starts a domino effect as the Bella's begin backing her up, creating the tune and allowing her to keep the lead. She looks Jesse up and down, daring him to interrupt her now she's got the extra confidence boost from the audience actually joining in. He just watches her with this smirk, bobbing his head in time with the beat, and it's enough to take her back for a second before she shakes the memory out of her head.

His mouth on hers is not an image she needs in her head right now.

"_I like the way you work it,_" she sings, feeling ridiculously smug at how he shifts in his spot, his smile falling a little as, she knows, he notes the significance of the line. "_I gotta bag it up, baby._"

He steps back and she's knows she's won, she knows she's beaten him. He can't top this and he knows it, and the way he's just staring at her makes her mouth a little dry.

The Bella's surrounding her, she finally draws the song to an end and Jesse claps despite Bumper's glare. "I mean, you're welcome," she says to him as he laughs at the crowd hooting at her performance. She's going to get stick for this later, she knows, but somehow, in the highs of victory, she doesn't really mind too much.

"Would you look at that!" Justin calls as the Bella's swallow her, hugging her and squealing ecstatically. "That has to be the most tense showdown in the history of the Riff-Off!"

She feels as high as that girl from the High Notes, and everyone just looks so blissfully happy as her mouth gets stuck in this whopping great big grin, accepting hugs and clasping hands. For a moment, she forgets all about the stress of being in the group, she forgets about the bet and the compromise with her dad, she forgets about everything but the intensity of this moment, the feeling of _winning._

"We win! We win! We win!" Amy chants, and Beca laughs freely, trying not to pay too much attention to how Jesse is watching her with this little smile.

"Bella's win!" Justin yells, and the girls go crazy again, Aubrey snatching the microphone and holding it proudly. Beca doesn't follow, letting her bitch of a captain have her moment (and she hopes that now, maybe, Aubrey will lay off her a little), and she's so focussed on watching them that she doesn't notice Jesse sneak behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a way that's far too similar to the night that the song came from.

"Jesse!" she squeaks in surprise, turning around quickly, and he laughs at her expression.

"Well done, Bee, you deserve it." He puts his hands in his jacket pockets and tilts his head as he looks at her. "That was a pretty good showdown there, huh?"

"Yeah, and I kicked your ass," she chuckles. "You put up a pretty decent effort though."

"I knew you'd come around to liking acapella," he says smugly. She shakes her head.

"No, I like _beating _you, that performance there does not mean I like acapella."

His smile only grows knowingly as he says, "Whatever you say, Bee."

There's a silence between them and she can feel the weight of the unspoken events behind some of the songs weighing on them. She can see him debating over whether to mention them, and she desperately doesn't want to because if he does, she's pretty sure she's going to pounce on him quicker than he can even form the thought and that would just be awkward for everyone.

"Beca! Congratulations!" Benji's grinning at her as he comes into view, effectively ending the strange moment and she smiles at him, trying to shrug it off a little.

"Thanks Benji."

"Commiserations, my friend." Benji slaps a hand onto Jesse's shoulder who just waves it off.

"She was a worthy opponent."

"Beca, get your flatbutt over here!" Amy calls, and Beca sees the Bellas waiting for her, so she waves goodbye to the two boys before running over to them, relieved to be away from… Whatever it was that she had felt. She's promptly lifted onto Amy and Ashley's shoulders and she flushes furiously as they chant her name, the whole pool getting involved quickly. She does not look down to see Jesse saying it too. She keeps her eyes on the clear night sky, wondering when she can escape under the cover of its darkness.

* * *

**So yeah. I changed the Riff-Off. I know, I'm a terrible person.**

**BUT it was for good reason. Mainly because I felt it was criminal they didn't include ****_Bump and Grind_****. Also though, all the songs will be featured in the 'past' chapters (apart from ****_What Goes Around_**** which was in Chapter 3 and ****_No Diggity_**** which was in Chapter 5) so there's a little preview of things to come. Also, I needed the Bella's to win the Riff-Off, hence fixing Beca's mistake.**

**The songs added, in case any of you are wondering, we're _When Love Takes Over_ - David Guetta, _Bump and Grind_ - R Kelly, _What Goes Around_ - Justin Timberlake and _Can't Say No_ - Conor Maynard (please do not judge my music taste off this I swear I do listen to better stuff). I didn't want to add no many extra but matching up words is harder than expected and it just expanded a lot.**

**Another return from one of my old fics here - Beca's nickname of Mitchie. This will be explained next chapter so bare with.**

**Quite a lot of time passes in this chapter, so keep that in mind. There's a good month and a bit difference between the first scene and the last. Also, yes, Iris is beginning to make her mark.**

**Think I answered most questions people may have... If there's anything else include it in a review or PM me! Thanks for reading and please me know if you liked the chapter.**


	7. Mrs Grumpus And Her Ducky

**So I know I've been a little absent and I'm sorry. Personal stuff. But I am now on break so hopefully more time to write and get this going.**

**A lot of hate for Iris last chapter! I dread to think about how much you guys will hate her when she's actually **_**in**_** the story...**

**Song is _I've Got A Crush On You _by Frank Sinatra (give it a listen, it's adorable).**

* * *

**7 - MRS GRUMPUS AND HER DUCKY**

The school was bigger than she thought it would be.

It was made up of four separate buildings, three stretching along the edges and one in the centre just behind the quad. The buildings all had that old, rustic feel that made her feel like she was in an episode of Downton Abbey, and yet somehow seemed modern and sleek. There was a student car park in front shaded by large trees and outlined with blooming flower beds, and it was all surrounded with towering black iron fences. She wondered if they were to keep people in or out.

The sign in front of her boasted its title: Townsend Preparatory School.

Her punishment for wrapping her mother's car around a tree.

She tugged at the hem of her pleated skirt uncomfortably, feeling self conscious about her legs being on show. The blazer was like a navy-coloured prison (and therefore folded away in her bag because no way was she going to wear that thing without the threat of death… And maybe not even then). She was _supposed_ to be wearing her black jeans and biker boots, not knee high socks and a crisp white blouse.

Her mother thought she was 'out of control'. The divorce had pushed her past a brink; had obviously been far too tough on her, so her and her father had decided that the only way to appropriately deal with her was to find the money to send their spiralling daughter to a private school, where she could be pushed to focus her attention on academics and not be side-tracked by the obvious distractions of whatever bad crowd she had fallen into.

Her mother was not aware that this 'bad crowd' consisted solely of Jesse (who was the complete opposite of a bad influence) and that she had unintentionally sent her to the same school as said 'crowd'.

In was in moments like that one a month ago, when her mother had come home to find out her daughter had spent the night in hospital getting brain scans and stitches after totalling her car while drunk, that Beca was glad she had never told her mother about Jesse.

Jesse.

Beca sighed, adjusting her backpack strap on her shoulder. She headed to the building in the middle of the school grounds, figuring it was a safe bet that the reception and school office were there. As she walked, there were plenty of funny stares from students. She didn't need to be a mind reader to know that some recognised her from Jesse's party. She wondered how quickly it would take for her to become known as 'That Tree Crash Girl'. No doubt some ridiculous pun for a nickname would be thought up. She wondered how quickly it would take for Jesse to hear about her arrival.

The office was cool when she walked in, and she pulled her leather jacket tighter around her – just because she had to wear a uniform didn't mean she wasn't going to put her own spin on it – as she crossed her arms over her chest. A small brunette behind the desk held a finger up to her as she finished her phone call and Beca looked around the expensively furnished room, taking in the fake plants and luxury couches pushed against one wall.

"How can I help you, Miss?"

"Uh, I'm new." Beca grimaced, unable to fully replicate a smile. "Beca Mitchell?"

"Beca?" A familiar head of blonde hair appeared from around the corner and she turned to see Freddy walking towards her, a surprised smile on his face. "Oh my God! What are you doing here?"

"I uh-" She glanced back to the woman who was typing something into her computer. "I transferred. Long story."

"Jesse never mentioned it! I can't believe he wouldn't tell me our car crash victim was coming here!" He eyed the red scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow, and she turned away towards the desk guiltily.

"Jesse doesn't know."

Freddy blinked with renewed surprise. "Oh – it's a surprise? He is going to _flip_."

"You could say that." Beca dug through her backpack, looking for the paperwork the woman behind the desk asked for. Freddy waited patiently for her to finish properly enrolling and he offered to show her around when she got a small pack of information to keep, but she shook her head. "I've already looked around with my mother last week."

"Can I at least walk you to your first class?" He stuffed his hands into his pockets and she hesitated before accepting, letting him lead her to the building on the left of the grounds. When they had been quiet for a few minutes, he gazed down at her to ask the question that had obviously been plaguing him. "You haven't spoken to him since that night, have you?"

"No," she answered honestly, surprised that he didn't already know this from the boy himself.

"Why?"

"I think the answer to that is pretty obvious."

Freddy went quiet again for a beat. "Nothing smashed in the hallway."

"Sorry?"

"I called Jesse away by telling him something got smashed in the hallway, but it didn't." She looked up at him but he was focussing on the corridors, tracing the line of a framed painting on the wall. "I didn't want you two to make a drunken mistake that would ruin your friendship."

She was astounded at his confession, how he had knowingly saved them from stepping over a dangerous line. "Thank you."

He shrugged. "Jesse doesn't know I just faked a false alarm. I figured if that was something you guys _wanted _that it would be better sober."

"Is he okay?"

"He's been a little down this past month; I know why now." He stopped outside a classroom, gesturing with his head towards it. "This is your stop."

"Thanks." She took a deep breath and tried to give him a genuine smile. "Just… Don't tell Jesse you've seen me? I'll talk to him, really, I just… Give me a few hours to adjust to all this first." She waved her hand around vaguely at the framed portraits and polished flooring that comprised the overly-expensive hallways.

He nodded. "Sure thing. Just make sure you do, okay? He misses you."

She gave him a long agonised look before stepping into her class, leaving him outside. Jesse could be dealt with later; she had to survive Calculus first.

* * *

When the ball rang for lunch, Beca did not even consider where her feet were taking her. She just let them go, losing herself in thoughts of her month cut off from the world. Her mother's paranoia over how apparently out of control her daughter was had increased over the winter break. When her mother had first seen Beca lying in bed, stitches on her forehead and a bluish staining under her eye… Well, it was safe to say her mother had flipped. But the decision to send her to Townsend had come later, after her first plan failed miserably.

Beca found herself at the door of the rehearsal space she had been shown last week. She hesitated, looking through the glass panels in the doors. Jesse was sitting with his back to the door, leaning over the keys of a baby grand piano as he played a beautiful melody. She was surprised at just how _good _he was, and for a moment she forgot her purpose of being there, instead losing herself in the way he rocked gently to the beat, how his fingers flew up and down the scales.

He started singing and she found herself drawn to it, slipping into the room as quietly as she could.

"_But you had such persistence, you wore down my resistance_," he sung, "_I fell and it was swell_."

She eased her bag off her shoulders, placing it under a stray chair. His voice was soft and lost in whatever was rolling around in his head. It was like he had no idea he was actually singing; he was too busy inside his head. She wondered, briefly, if it was her. Maybe he was thinking about her enrolment at his school.

"_It's not that you're attractive, but oh, my heart grew active when you came into view…_"

She knew he knew she was there, but did he know she was _there_, behind him?

"_I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie. All the day and night-time give me sigh."_

She stepped a little closer, wincing as her rubber soles squeaked a little.

"_I never had the least notion that I could fall with such emotion._"

She had missed him. She was surprised at just how much, considering his time in her life had been rather fleeting. But still, there was a Jesse shaped hole in her life and she wanted to fill it. She wanted to apologise and let him know why she disappeared and maybe, just maybe, accept the forgiveness she hoped he would give her.

"_The world will pardon my mush. 'Cause I have got a crush on you._"

There was barely four feet between them, his back still to her, and she was torn between whether she wanted to interrupt him and talk to him as soon as she could, or whether to let him finish, his voice soothing her nerves. He was good, really good, and she had no idea how he was pulling off Frank Sinatra so well but he had all the right emotion behind it, all that was needed to pull it off perfectly.

"_Cause I have got a crush, my baby, on you._"

She was about to reach out, to touch his shoulder, when she pulled it back. Touching him would probably be the worst of her two options. So instead, she took a deep breath and said a simple, "Hey."

He jumped violently off the piano stool, spinning around in surprise. He hadn't known she was there, obviously, and his brown eyes were full of shock at her appearance. She felt his gaze on the healing scar above her left eyebrow and it made her feel hot, her cheeks colouring. They trailed down her body, taking in the leather jacket and the white and navy plaid skirt. The ghost of a smile appeared as he spotted the socks. She really hated those damn socks.

"Beca." He seemed to be incapable of saying much else, and his staring put her on edge. She played with her fingers nervously and his eyes flickered back to her face, seeing her anxious expression. "So… You go here now."

"It would seem that way."

"Why? How?"

She sighed because did he _really _have to get into the heavy stuff straight off the bat? She sat down next to him, staring at her hands in her lap. "Mother thinks she knows best."

His eyes were back on her forehead. "You've got a proper Harry Potter going on there, haven't you?"

"Make up won't cover it," she groaned, gingerly touching it. "I've heard every joke under the sun about it so don't even bother."

"I wasn't going to." He tapped his fingers nervously on his knees. "So… How was your Christmas?"

She glanced up at him guiltily. "Please don't do that."

"Do what?"

"So obviously avoid the subject."

She was surprised at how amusement flashed across his face, like it really wasn't a big deal. "You mean the subject about how you tried to drive drunk, crashed your car, had to be checked out by my dad and taken to hospital, and then disappeared between visiting hours?"

His smirk eased her enough for her to be able to elbow his side playfully. "Yes, that one."

He stared at her profile as she kept her eyes on the floor. "Was it because of me?"

"No," she said immediately, but she didn't know how to put it all into words. "It was… My mother was meant to be coming back and they gave me the all clear and I just… I didn't want to be a pain. I was already this giant inconvenience and –"

"You weren't an inconvenience," he interrupted, grabbing her fidgeting hands so she looked back to him. "I was just glad you were okay; it could have been so much worse."

"I was going to call but – I got home and I hadn't slept for so long, so I thought taking a nap wouldn't be an issue, and then my mother got home and – Well, she wasn't happy."

He raised a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, focusing his attention on his thumb and how it stroked gently up the side of her hand. "It's okay, Beca, really. I figured there were going to be some serious repercussions from it all. I just needed to know you were okay." His voice was laced with worry and she felt so guilty - it was spiralling in her gut and making her feel a little nauseous.

"I was basically cut off from the rest of the world. It was ridiculous. She took my phone, my laptop… everything. Bitch thought it would teach me lesson." The anger was building in her tone and she fought to keep it under control. "She barely let me go to school, and she dropped me off and picked me up every time so I wouldn't have a chance to see anyone properly. Then my dad found out…"

"And they transferred you," Jesse guessed. She nodded with a grimace.

"They thought I fell in with a bad crowd, I guess."

"They think I'm a bad crowd?" he asked in surprise. She realised he was still touching her hand, and she pulled it away to cross her arms over her chest. Now came the difficult part…

"They…" She didn't know how to phrase it, how to tell him without hurting him. "They don't know about you." She wasn't sure why, but he didn't look hurt; just a little surprised, and it threw her a little. "I never told them about you after the park, and then I just… Never told them. You were… You were like my secret."

"Well," he said after a moment, "I suppose that ended up being a good thing."

She quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "Only you could see that as a good thing."

He laughed once, his teeth bright in the fluorescent lighting of the room. "Well it got you here right? And now I can stop driving across town all the time to see you."

His hand was clutched around hers again in her lap, and it was comforting to know how easily he had forgiven her. He wasn't mad for her month of silence, more just pleased to see her. The Jesse shaped hole in her life was gone, and she smiled at him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "We still have to go back you know – for Joel if nothing else."

He tucked her under his chin, letting go of her hand to wrap an arm around her. They sat in a peaceful silence, his warmth reassuring, and for the first time in a month she felt… Whole.

* * *

It didn't take long for Jesse to start parading her around school.

After the choir room confessional, Jesse dragged her to the cafeteria by the sleeve of her jacket. She grumbled and complained the whole way, dragging her backpack behind her so it bumped against her calf with every step. He buzzed happily about some nonsense to do with glee club that she paid little attention to (it was nice to be talking to him again, sure, but did it really have to be about a bunch of teenagers singing cheesy songs and prancing around a stage?)

Walking into the large, plush cafeteria, he dragged her straight past the lunch queue and weaved through the tables to one tucked in a corner where four people sat laughing loudly at someone's phone. Upon Jesse's arrival they looked up, eyeing Beca in confusion – well, all apart from Freddy, who grinned at her knowingly.

"Hey guys!" Jesse greeted. "So this is Beca, she's just transferred."

A tall blonde widened her eyes, her lips pursed as she took Beca in again. "Beca? As in the girl from your birthday?"

"Yeah, that's me," Beca said awkwardly, waving once as she grimaced. "I'm the one who drove her car into a tree and ruined the celebrations."

The pale blonde, however, just smiled kindly at her, extending a manicured hand towards her. "I'm Phillipa. It's nice to finally meet you, Jesse hasn't stopped talking about you for quite some time."

Beca side-glanced at Jesse who flushed a little, but shook the girls' hand quickly. "Well that's, um, great?"

"I'm Damien, we met briefly." An even taller boy with olive skin and dark eyes grinned at her from Phillipa's side. His arm was slung around her and she smiled back, laughing a little as Freddy introduced himself teasingly. A dark skin boy with a crazy afro leaned over from the back of the table, holding his hand out to her.

"Hey, I'm Brad." Beca shook his hand and his dark blue eyes sparkled cheekily. "Can't really believe you're real, even after Freddy and Damien assured me."

"I'm very much real, I can assure you."

"Well it's good to meet you." Brad's teeth flashed at her, and then he gestured to the empty seat beside him. "Jenny is out for the week so you can come sit next to me if you like."

As Beca moved to take the seat – she had a feeling the questions were going to start soon and really, where was the harm in getting to know Jesse's friends a little better? – Jesse mockingly glared at Brad. "Dude, can't you give her one full day at this school before you hit on her?"

Brad laughed easily and Phillipa lent over the table. "Ignore him, he's a bit of a ladies man, I'd avoid him if I were you." She eyed him warily, a smile twitching on her lips. "We don't know where he's been."

Brad threw a grape at her and Phillipa lent back into Damien, laughing at his pout. Jesse slipped into the seat beside Beca and stole Freddy's fries from his lunch tray. "I apologise for my friends, they're a little… Insane."

She shrugged, smirking at them messing about. "There's nothing wrong with a little insanity."

Damien laughed loudly, his head thrown back and pointed at her as he looked to Jesse. "You definitely picked a good one here, Ducky."

"Ducky?" Beca glanced between them, noting Jesse's eye roll.

"Damien decided last year that Jesse doesn't suit his last name because, and I quote, 'He's no swan'," Phillipa told her, evidently not thrilled with her boyfriend's antics. "He thinks Jesse is more of a duck."

"Everyone has ridiculous nicknames," Freddy continued, shrugging casually. "I'm sure you'll earn your own in time."

"Jesse's is extra great because when he's being an idiot you get to call him a Duckfuck," Damien said joyfully, laughing at his own joke as Jesse threw a fry at him and the rest of the table sighed at the lame quip.

"He thinks he's funny, but we only keep him around because Phillipa hasn't kicked him to the curb yet," Jesse informed Beca, leaning towards her by resting his elbow on the back of her chair. Damien spluttered in disbelief as Phillipa crooned mockingly over him, and Beca looked around the grinning faces of the group around her. It was a little strange, being surrounded by all of it, but at the same time, she really liked it. Suddenly, transferring didn't seem like such a bad thing after all.

* * *

A week later, she stormed into school in the foulest of moods. Her eyes were narrowed, her stance full of pent up anger, and her footfalls were heavier with frustration. Her make-up was heavier and her leather jacket was wrapped around her tightly as she stomped straight past Jesse, who was waiting for her on the quad.

"Beca! Hey! Wait up!"

She was too involved in her vicious thoughts to notice so he had to jog to catch her up, grabbing her arms to stop her war path. He looked worried and she glared at him, misdirecting her fury because she really, _really _wasn't in the mood for anything that morning.

"Is this an 'I'm not a morning person' tantrum or is it more serious?" he asked cautiously, searching her face for some kind of indication as to what was wrong. His question should probably have been more thought out.

"I'm not having a _tantrum_," she hissed, pushing past him roughly. He followed – which really shouldn't have surprised her – but kept a step behind, like he was ready to run away from the time bomb she was that morning at any second.

"So more serious then," he supplied. "You gonna tell me what's got you so riled up?"

"I'm fine."

"Beca, you weren't even this mad on the day I _met _you, okay, so I know you're not fine so would you please slow down and –" He grabbed her arm again but she yanked it away, turning on him with an angry fire in her eyes.

"Don't touch me! God what is your _problem_?! Would you just back off?"

She felt horrible the second the words left her mouth but she couldn't take them back and stop them twisting his face into that hurt expression that made her ache a little. Opening his mouth to try and say something, he gaped at her for a few seconds before nodding sombrely. "Sure."

"Jesse." Her fingers wrapped around his wrist before he could step any further away. Her voice was full of a quiet sorrow as she tried to stop any damage being done. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"It's fine, if you want me to leave you alone –"

"No, no, I'm sorry." He wasn't looking at her so she pulled his chin, forcing him to see her. "Don't leave me alone."

"Are you going to tell me what's made you into a Mrs Grumpus this morning?" he asked with his arms crossed, challenging her a little, and she sighed heavily because she _really _didn't want to talk about it but she had the feeling he'd pester her all day if she didn't at least tell him.

"Do you promise not to question me on it or mention it ever again?" she asked back. He nodded quickly, holding out his little finger in a silent promise, and she linked her own around it, taking a deep breath before blurting it out in one go. "My dad is dating this new woman and he told me last night and he sounds really happy so my mother is basically depressed and I really _really_ hate this Sheila woman for making my family even worse so I just need some time to be 'Mrs Grumpus' about this okay?"

Without another word, Jesse just linked his arm back through hers and gave her a sympathetic pat on her forearm, letting her seethe quietly as he led them to a bench. She let her emotions overwhelm her; all the pain, the betrayal, the anger, the grief for her lost relationship with her father... She allowed it all to wash over her as Jesse just held her hand and together they looked out at the students making their way through the large black gate, the sun beating down on them as Beca weathered her own private storm.

* * *

**What'd you guys think? I basically wrote this for the specific purpose of including Frank Sinatra because I just love that song so much and... Yeah I have wanted to put it somewhere for so long. Also, lots of new characters included in this one... And Beca's now at Townsend! (I hate that I watch Glee now and that Townsend in my head is basically wherever the Warblers are from. Ugh why can't I stop watching that terrible show)**

**Next chapter sees Beca and Jesse on winter break together! I'm looking forward to writing it, it's going to be an exciting chapter... Let me know what you think of this chapter (honestly not even sure this is good in anyway...) and yeah. Hopefully I'll update soon!**

**(P.S. I would like to apologise to any and all ****_Barden Record_**** readers. If you see this, know I'm sorry for how long it's been and that I'm having some difficulty but I will be updating within the next fortnight, with some news that I need to consult you all on. Again, I'm really sorry, and hope you can all be a little more patient with me on that front.)**


	8. Cracks In Our Foundations

**So excited about this chapter! It is incredibly long (like over 12,000 words long) and a lot is covered so hopefully you all keep up and enjoy it. I've been writing it in every spare moment I've had for the past week for you all so I really hope you like it and don't want to kill me after...**

* * *

**8 – CRACKS IN OUR FOUNDATIONS**

Holidays.

Beca's never been much of a fan.

(And that's despite Jesse's constant efforts to show her the 'amazingness' of every single one. Like _all _of them. She's pretty sure half of them don't even exist anywhere but inside his head. For instance, Ferris Wheel Day? There's no way that's a legitimately celebrated occasion, no matter how much he insists he once saw a Hallmark card for it.)

So a week after the riff off, when Halloween rolls around and he turns up at her door holding up a scarily accurate replica of the dress worn by Emily in _The Corpse Bride_ to match his own costume for Victor Van Dort (because, as if it's not enough torture to be in love with your best friend, he has to insist on couple's costumes that really just rub salt in the wound) she thinks she might have the perfect night to get away with murder because there is isn't a cat in hell's chance she's parading around in _that _thing, with him, in front of the entire campus.

"No."

"But Bee –"

"Not a chance."

His brown eyes are pleading with her and she can feel her resolve melting away by the second, but she stands firm, her arms crossed over his old tatty shirt that she's wearing and her eyes narrowed at him. No, she will not back down this time. No way is he getting away with this again.

Two hours later, she's glaring again but this time at her own reflection, staring back at her with faded blue skin, protruding scars and wispy tattered hair. Jesse's standing behind her shoulder, grinning widely at her awkwardly adjusting the corset of the dress and playing with the fabric of the skirt, trying to stop the ridiculously high slit showing off quite so much of her legs (that she's also had to paint, much to her annoyance, due to his insistence that they be "truly authentic").

"I hate you," she insists for what must be the hundredth time, looking at his deliberately paled face in the mirror as he doesn't even blink, just dusts off his suit a little. How does he always look so good in his costumes when she always looks so… Blah? And why are his outfits always far less intricate?

"No you don't."

"I loathe you."

"Liar."

"I intensely despise you."

"Again, you're lying." Jesse just shakes his head with an amused smile, reaching up to fiddle with the fake dead flowers woven into her hair as she checks the tattoo on her shoulder (that's still glaringly obvious through the face paint) and gingerly smudges at the eyeliner around her eyes. His own are lined – don't worry, she made sure to 'accidently' slip and poke him in the eye as a small form of payback for the undoubted humiliation of the evening – and she just huffs, wishing she could actually hate him just for a moment, because damnit these bandages are _itchy_ –

"Beca, would you stop fussing? You look great!" he tells her, giving her a dashing smile and holding his hands back from her costume, his eyes raking down her form. "Seriously, Bee, you look amazing."

Beca rolls her eyes and continues to smooth down the rough fabric of the dress. "How do you talk me into these things?"

"It's a gift."

"Yeah, well, it's a gift that's going to ruin my street cred and probably get me kicked out of the Bella's." Glancing up, she sees his reflection's smile fade, worry passing over his expression.

"That seems a little extreme." But his words come out too much like a question and too little like a teasing remark, because she's told him the stories and he knows full well the general attitude the Bella's hold against the Treble's - he's experienced Aubrey's death glares and sharp words more than a few times.

"Are you serious, Jesse? I'm a Bella, turning up at a Halloween party in a… Couple's costume thing" – she hesitates for just a second, her eyes darting away at the mention of 'couples' – "With a Treble! It's like I'm _trying _to get myself killed."

The worry in his eyes is there for just a second more before he just shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and busying himself with doing something on it. "Well, at least I win the bet that way," he dismisses.

If it wasn't for the fact that he's talked her into matching costumes in the past, she'd believe he did this all on purpose as some elaborate scheme to get her kicked out of the Bella's and therefore have to have the stupid tattoo done. But this is _Jesse_, so she knows that he genuinely hadn't thought of this and that he's now actually feeling bad. Good, she thinks, he deserves to suffer after what he's making her wear tonight.

After he snaps a picture of them – because he insists "such brilliance must be posted for the world to see" – and uploads it to Facebook and, for good measure, messages to Freddy and the gang and no doubt his parents (hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he sent to her mother too), Jesse takes their keys and puts them in one pocket and their money in another and they leave her dorm together, arm in arm, as he reminisces giddily.

"Remember our first Halloween last year? I turned up at your house to take you to Brad's party and you tried to go as – what was it again?"

Sighing, she wobbles a little in the uncomfortable white heels as she monotonously replies, "Dead girl listening to music."

Jesse chuckles. "That was the worst attempt at a costume I've ever seen. You didn't even look that different to your normal self!"

"Because dressing up is _stupid_ –"

"And I told you that simply wouldn't do and we had to go to Jenny's for a last minute costume change. Wasn't it cool she had that leather suit lying around? You made an great Black Widow."

"Jesse, I looked terrible! And it was Jenny's – we had no idea where that thing had been. You only insisted on it because it matched your costume." The cold air as they exit the building hits every inch of her bare blue skin harshly and she shivers a little, clinging to him a little tighter. "Trust me, you and I remember last Halloween very differently."

He laughed loudly. "I think you just adapted _my _line there, Natasha. And hey, it wasn't _just _because you matched my Hawkeye outfit, though admit it; we looked pretty damn awesome, especially after Jenny dyed your hair."

Beca grimaces at the thought of how much hair stripper it had taken to take out the red Jenny had had lying around for her own hair. "Really struggling to remember why I keep you around right now…"

"Okay, okay," he says as he laughs at her expense. "I'll drop it. Though you know you had a good time at that party; Brad always throws amazing parties."

"His parents sure don't think that." Beca looks around at the various people walking through the campus, taking in the crazy costumes and the severely lack on clothing on a lot of them (both boys and girls – seriously, she thinks she just saw someone in only the gold hot pants of a certain Rocky) and half of her is actually kind of glad he's dragged her out. Last year, they really had enjoyed themselves, and maybe, once the Bella's get over her traitorous costume choice, she can actually have fun, plus Jesse _had _promised that their roles could be reversed tonight…

The party, as it turns out, is actually pretty decent. When they arrive there's a bit of a hullabaloo over their costumes (she's amazed that Aubrey only sends one seething remark in her direction and then lets it go, though judging by the look Chloe gives her when she does, Beca thinks the redhead might have had a word about Aubrey's attitude) and then a bit of a fan fair in return - Amy is wearing a very large amount of yellow in a... _Unique_ interpretation of Winnie the Pooh; Stacie is barely contained inside the PVC confinements of her nurses costume; Aubrey looks like a zombified version of Britney Spears at the beginning of that music video with the pink scrunchies and tarty school girl uniform; Lily… Well, Beca's not sure what Lily is supposed to be dressed as, she just knows she's going to have legitimate nightmares over the… Whatever she is.

As promised Jesse is the designated 'walker' and he keeps his alcohol intake to a minimum, while she allows herself to take advantage of the rare occasion of not having to look after him and instead, get a little loose. So Beca drinks and she dances and leaves blue smudges everywhere she goes and she surprisingly loves every second, even if the music does suck a little and she's trapped in this ridiculous wedding dress that makes her itch and sweat and struggle to breathe a little in the intense heat of the Treble house.

It is on one such occasion that Jesse notices her discomfort and takes her outside, that something first strikes her as odd.

"You okay there, Bee?" he says in a soothing voice, his palm on her back as he leads her a little ways from the house, away from the people and the noise.

"Fantastic!" she slurs a little, grinning up at him. "How you doing?" And she snorts, repeating the question in a funny accent which makes Jesse laugh along with her.

"That is a terrible Joey impression!" he says once he's stopped laughing. "And you must be really out of it if you're doing impersonations."

She shrugs, stumbling a little as her bare feet come into contact with a sharp rock (she can't remember where her shoes went, but they aren't there anymore and she's glad they decided to leave her). "I'm totally fine. Not even tipsy."

It's his turn to snort, giving her a disbelieving smirk and wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Sure you aren't."

"Seriously, I'm totally fine. Remember, I can hold my liquor." She hiccups and leans further into him, looking out into the darkness spread before them. Sleepiness washes over her a little and her weight rests heavily into him, his arms the only thing really keeping her upright.

"You okay? You wanna go home?"

"No." There's a long pause, during which she shivers and he takes off his blue-stained blazer to drape over her shoulders. It smells of him and she holds the collar closer to her nose, not really caring that he can see her doing it. "Jesse?"

"Yes, Beca?"

"Thank you. For… For being you."

Beca's not really sure where the sentimentality comes from or why she feels the need to thank him, but with her head against his chest and his arm holding her close, she has the overwhelming urge to tell him, once and for all, just how important he is to her, to tell him how much of an effect he has over her just by being her friend. She wants him to know that she's selfish, because being his friend isn't enough for her anymore and even though she doesn't deserve him, in any way shape or form, she doesn't care. All she cares about is him.

But Jesse doesn't know that. Not properly - not until she finds the courage to actually say all of that out loud. So he laughs at her and hugs her closer. "Oh dear, you really are drunk."

"I'm serious!" she insists in a voice that's a little too whiney. She pulls away to see him better, trying to convey her sincerity. "I know I don't tell you very often but I do appreciate you, you know that right? I – I love you, Jesse, you mean the world to me."

The smile slowly fades from his face and the amusement in his eyes is replaced with some strange, so quick she can't register it properly before he's smiling again, pulling her tight against him in a hug. "I choose my best friend's very carefully, Bee. There's a reason I picked you."

"My amazing taste in music?" she mumbles into his chest, her eyes fluttering closed. His laughter rumbles in his chest.

"That's a factor, I suppose. But the main reason is your passion. If you love something, if it inspires you and captures you, you cling onto it, you fight for your dream, for your love of it." He drops a kiss to her forehead. "You're fiercely loyal to anything you hold dear and I love you for everything you are. You, Miss Mitchell, are my rock, so thank you for everything, too."

Tears stick to her thick eyelashes and she nuzzles her nose into him, determined not to let him see her tears because he doesn't get it, she knows he doesn't. His expression of love is for a best friend, for someone who is always by his side.

But hers? Hers is an expression of _love_. Because she doesn't want to be by his side; she wants to be a part of him, to be with him as more than just a friend. And she feels stupid and over emotional and too girly but she can't help it, because the alcohol is making her more prone to what she normally keeps tucked away and suddenly the weight of her realisation over summer is hitting her square in the gut, forcing her to accept the never ending agony that accompanies unrequited love.

The force turns her stomach and she's pushing him harshly away, stumbling across the grass to the tree nearby as her insides twist sharply. The contents of her stomach spill onto the exposed roots and she gags against the burn in her throat, barely registering Jesse's fingers rubbing up her spine or his other hand holding her hair and train back. Her palms scratch against the bark of the tree and a gag turns into a sob, one hand letting go to wipe against her mouth and try to somehow stop him hearing as she begins to cry.

At some point he turns her, her cheek pressing into his chest and her legs tucked up as he rocks her gently in his lap, hidden by the low branches of the tree to the rest of the party. Beca presses her hand into his neck, holding onto him as the weight of her situation hits her like a ton of bricks. How did she get here? How is she this hysterical mess of an eighteen year old, trapped in this university by her abandoning, unsupportive father with her best friend that she's head over heels for and a crazy group of girls that she sometimes thinks shouldn't be allowed out in public?

_How did she get here?_

She wants to blame her father. If he hadn't upped and left she never would have met Jesse in the first place, and then none of this would have happened. Though maybe that also makes it Jesse's fault. But then she hates herself, because all Jesse has done is be so amazing to her and she's returning the favour by blaming him for all her problems?

It's not his fault that she had to go and fall for him. It's not his fault that her father left. It's not his fault that she's being forced to be here, or that she's surrounded by Aubrey and her craziness too often to be mentally healthy (okay, so that one is totally his fault, but that's not the point).

It's her own fault, but she hasn't got a clue how to _fix_ this all.

Well, maybe if she weren't so drunk…

"I'm sorry," she mutters a few moments later after she's calmed down to just occasional hitches in breath and her eyes are a little drier. "I don't know why I cried."

"It's fine." He strokes her matted hair, kissing her forehead again as he continues to rock them. "I know you've needed that for a while."

She snivels. "I did?"

"This has all been a big adjustment for you, and you don't deal well with change or unfamiliar settings or pretty much anything" – she can feel his smile, can hear the teasing in his tone – "And sometimes we all need a bit of a cry to help get through it."

Beca scrubs at her eyes, not caring about her make up anymore. "When did you get so wise?"

Jesse chuckles again, shrugging gently enough so as not to bustle her. "I have my moments."

"Can we go home please?" she pleads, and he nods, raising both of them to an upright position. Looking down at her tear-smudged face, he gives her a soft smile as he runs his fingers under her eyes to try and fix her eyeliner a little better before straightening her flower tiara. She laughs as she rubs helplessly at one of the many blue face paint transfers on his white shirt, seeing in the dim lighting how her skin is almost clean from the make up from the hours of brushing past people and spilled drinks and sweaty dancing.

"Come on, Bee, I'll give you a lift." He hunches down in front of her, his back facing her, and she seperates her skirts at the slit so she can jump up and wrap her legs around his waist. He grips the back of her knees, her arms around his neck as he begins to walk them back towards the dorms.

"So what about Amy's costume?"

Beca chuckles a little at the disbelief in his voice, resting her cheek against the crown of his head. "I thought it was… Original."

"That's one word for it…"

"Jesse!" a voice squeals, and he turns them in alarm to see none other than her roommate, Iris, giggling away with some of her sorority sisters as she waves drunkenly at him. "Hey Jesse! Any chance I can get a ride too?"

The girls burst into further hysterics, all of them in matching bunny costumes – which are really no more than black hotpants, a tight corset and fluffy bunny ears clipped neatly into their perfect hair – and Jesse hesitates beneath her.

"Just ignore them, they'll go away in a minute," she says in his ear, shifting a little to get more comfortable.

"Pretty please?" Iris calls, turning to shake her white fluffy bunny tail at him. "You can't resist a cute little bunny rabbit, can you?"

Beca thinks she's just about ready to puke again when Jesse speaks. "Only room for one today, I'm afraid. Perhaps another time."

The girls are close enough now that Beca can see the smile falter on Iris's face as the blonde glances at her clinging to his back. "Oh! Beca, didn't see you there. That costume is uh… It's interesting."

"At least its not a slutty–"

"Well we have to go, sorry girls," Jesse hastily cuts in, trying to save her from letting her sharp tongue get her into trouble (again). "See you around."

Jesse turns around, again heading back to the dorms, and she can feel the tension in his shoulders as the sorority girls call after him suggestively, Iris cackling away at their helm, and Beca tightens her grip around his waist, causing him to twist his head to try and see her.

"They're only sorority girls, they're not going to kill you, you know," she jokes, trying to ease the tension radiating from him, but he falters a second too long before relaxing.

"Yeah, well, tell that to Mrs Slater," he says dryly, and she shivers a little at the memory of watching _The House on Sorority Row _with him late one night. She really does _not _like slasher movies.

"Why would you remind me of that?" she complains, and he just laughs, hitching her a little higher over his hip bones.

"It's alright, you can come sleep with me; I'll keep the nightmares away," he teases, and she rests her check against her own arm as it grips the buttons of his shirt to keep her balanced, letting her distress from before just drift away. All she wants to do for now is sleep.

* * *

"Happy Peanut Butter Fudge Day!" Jesse bursts into her room at ten in the morning towards the end of November, ignoring her groan of frustration as she rolls over in bed and pulls the covers over her head to hide from the light flooding in from the hallway. She hears Jesse pulls on her blinds to draw them up and the warm sunshine hits the top of her head, still peeking out from the duvet.

"Come on, Bee, rise and shine! It's a big day today!"

"Fuck off," comes her muffled reply as she tries to settle back to sleep.

"Nope." The duvet is ripped cruelly from her grasp and Beca is left to face the slight chill of the room in just an old shirt and cotton shorts. "Get your lazy butt out of bed."

"Jesse," she fumes, "I will snap every single one of your DVDs if you do return my duvet and shut those fucking blinds."

"How can you be so grumpy when it's Peanut Butter Fudge Day?" he asks with an exasperated sigh, ignoring her threat and instead starting up her computer.

"You're the only person in the world who actually gives a shit about that."

"Tell that to peanut butter fudge makers."

"I swear to God…"

But Jesse is at her side again, putting pressure on her hip to roll her over and suddenly she's looking up at the grinning face of the boy is definitely not her best friend anymore after pulling this stunt. Her eyes narrow and his grin grows impossibly wider, and yep, she's going to kill him.

"Beca, you need to get up."

Her hand darts out to slap him around the head and she manages it, seconds before he grips her wrist and then the other one as it rises for the defence, and he pins them above her head, pressing a knee down on her thighs to stop her kicking up at him.

And really, this is probably the most compromising position they've actually been involved in, and it is typical that a certain redhead walks by the still-open door at that exact moment.

"Beca?" Chloe just stares at them as Jesse recoils quickly, letting Beca go and straightening up with a self-conscious clearing of the throat as he smiles awkwardly at their intruder. Chloe is dressed in her costume for the Thanksgiving 'aca-grams' and Beca would make a joke about it if it weren't for how her eyes are darting between Beca and Jesse at a ridiculous speed.

"Chloe, hey." Beca sits up properly and starts tying her messy hair back into a precarious ponytail. "What's up?"

"I was…" Chloe shakes her head a little and then her usual friendly smile settles back into place. "I was just starting my rounds for the day, you know, before people start disappearing." She holds up a handful of little envelopes with a large calligraphy B along the front. "I was only passing by…"

Jesse, back into his usual laidback attitude, smiles at the redhead. "Happy Peanut Butter Fudge Day, Chloe."

"Ooh! Yum!" Chloe's bright blue eyes light up eagerly. "I love peanut butter fudge!"

"See?" Jesse gestures to Chloe as he turns to Beca with a slight pout. "Why can't you react more like that?"

Beca rolls her eyes, swinging her legs out of the bed and grabbing his hoody from the back of her desk chair that he left a few days ago. "Because I'm not a weirdo?" she says dryly as she stretches her arms through the mass of material, zipping it up to stop the cold getting in.

"Don't be so mean to poor Chloe," he admonishes, but Chloe just laughs lightly in the doorway.

"Oh it's fine, she's probably right." She waves the envelopes awkwardly. "So I should…"

"Yeah, sure." Beca smiles tightly at her.

"But I'll see you at rehearsal tonight?"

"Yup."

"Okay, good." Chloe's smile grows and she waves at them both. "Bye guys."

Once she's left, Beca quickly shuts the door and pulls at the stretchy hem at the bottom of the hoody. It finishes below the line of her shorts so it's probably not the best thing to be wearing, and it smells of Jesse in a way that she probably shouldn't love so much, which just makes her feel very awkward and determined to avoid his inquisitive gaze.

"You okay?" he asks quietly after a few moments of strangely tense silence.

"Fine." Beca opens her wardrobe and starts to leaf through her clothes to put her focus somewhere other than him. Honestly, she's mad at him, because this is the first time he's stopped by for about two days and it annoys her that he's falling back into this new pattern of going missing for days at a time, giving short answers to her texts and sometimes failing to return her phone calls. But she doesn't know how to tell him, not without broaching some loaded topics, and she's rather him keep whatever his little secret is than have to explain why she is so possessive.

"No you're not – are – are you mad at me?"

"Nope," she says more to her collection of jeans than him. He sounds confused, and a little hurt, and a part of her flares up in anger at the fact he thinks he has a right to be hurt.

"No you – Beca you're totally mad at me!" Jesse's hands are gentle on the tops of her arms as he tries to turn her around and face him, but she resists, firmly standing her ground when he increases the force. "Shit, Bee, I'm sorry."

"Would you stop –" She yanks her arms free and walks away from him, instead sitting in her desk chair and clicking on things on her computer just to appear busy.

"Beca, come on, don't be like this." Jesse stands helplessly where she left him, and she tries not to notice the slump of his shoulders or the way his lips are parted in defeated confusion.

"Be like what? I'm fine. Not doing anything differently."

"You're being – "Jesse steps towards her as she turns her chair so her back is to him, running her fingers lazily over the electronic keyboard. "You're being off with me, you never do that."

"Jesse, would you just let it go?" She sighs, then yelps a little in surprise when he pushes on the back of her chair to spin her back around, leaning into it around her body as his eyes suddenly meet hers and he squints, searching for something.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"What did I do?"

"It's nothing, Je –"

"What did I do?"

"Oh my God, Jesse would you just back off?" Her hands collide with his shoulders as she pushes him forcibly away, and a stunned look crosses his features before it melts into hurt, taking in her pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

"Beca…"

"Jesse, just – Just drop it okay?" And she stands up, unzipping his hoodie and handing it back to him, hating how empty she feels in this moment, like one of the many ties that hold them together has just snapped, falling lifelessly away.

"Fine." He holds his hands up, backing away towards her door. "Sorry, I'll go."

She sighs his name, because as angry as she is, she can't bear the sight of him walking away.

"Don't worry about it." His head drops and he grips the maroon hoodie tighter. "I'll call you."

And then he's gone, and Beca's left to figure out how exactly things got this way.

* * *

The next few days pass slowly.

Very, very slowly.

And sitting at the dinner table with her father and the step monster, toying with her turkey meat, she can feel every second of the awkward silence. Beca is not exactly happy about her position, but it was Thanksgiving or Christmas with her father and there's no way she's spending the end of the year in Georgia.

So she sits, bored, trying not to think about the glances between the couple from either end of the table, or the unusually silent phone beside her plate, or the fact her best friend has been going MIA again over the past few weeks and he seems to be keeping a secret from her, something she's sure he's never done in all the years she's known him. She tries not to think about the last time she saw him, walking away from her in resignation.

Not that she's thinking about Jesse.

Nope.

Because she's sworn to stop doing that.

And she's obviously doing _really_ well at that.

Jesse (yes, so she's obviously not doing well, but she's trying to convince herself it's because he's not here and that its weird, not having him within the state) is probably eating a wonderful dinner - which Sheila's attempt is definitely not - with all of his family, laughing and joking and being the perfect cookie cutter, movie worthy scene that she's grown to love being a part of. Betty, his mother, is not fond of phones at the table, and she knows rationally that that is why Jesse has not responded to her messages throughout the day.

But she's irrational, the nagging in her gut whispering thoughts she's not ready to face because she can't lose him, and she won't. Jesse loves her; he said so himself. And yes, it might not be the love she feels for him but he still cares for her, she knows that without a doubt, and just because he's yet to call as he promised or even just text her back... That doesn't mean a thing. Not at all. Yes, it's been all day. But he's busy. Right?

"Can I be excused?"

"What? No, Beca –"

But she's already gone, her appetite diminished, and she knows its Thanksgiving and that this is important to her father but what's the point in it all? She doesn't have that much to be thankful for this year.

* * *

At midnight, as Beca lies in her bed and meaninglessly plays around with the wire of her headphones, her phone finally buzzes beside her. She is not expecting it and it makes her jump a little on the springs of her mattress, and she snatches it up greedily, delight curling in her gut as she reads the message on the lock screen.

_From: Weirdo 12:01am  
You're welcome._

Beca hasn't heard from him since yesterday, and things have been tense since the debacle in her dorm that resulted in him walking away and leaving the state for the holiday. Their strange exchange yesterday had been a little awkward, something she had initiated and that he seemed to take part in more because he felt he had to than actually wanting to, but she thinks they might be a little closer to being back to normal? Maybe. She's not sure anymore.

_To: Weirdo 12:03am  
For what?_

_From: Weirdo 12:04am  
I know you gave thanks for little old me today._

She's surprised at the speed of his reply, and takes this as a good sign that maybe he's starting to forgive and forget her behaviour two days ago. Hesitating, she tries to figure out what to say. Normally she would be teasing, would have no issue in it, but now she's not so sure. Are they there yet? Will he take her reply as it's intended? A joke?

_To: Weirdo 12:07am  
Nope._

Pressing send, she closes her eyes and waits.

And waits, and waits, and waits.

_From: Weirdo 12:16am  
Don't lie, I felt it. And it's Your Welcomegiving Day so you're the first on my list._

She exhales in relief and smiles a little to herself in the darkness, her thumbs dancing over the buttons as she tries to think of what to say back. Before she can though, her phone buzzes again.

_From: Weirdo 12:23am  
Sorry I didn't call. Forgive me?_

_To: Weirdo 12:26am  
Didn't remember you were supposed to._

Thinking that brushing it off will help, she stares at her phone screen, impatient for his reply.

_From: Weirdo 12:27am  
Are you mad again?_

She sighs. It didn't help.

_To: Weirdo 12:30am  
I'm not mad._

_From: Weirdo 12:31am  
When will you learn how terrible a liar you are?_

Beca is aware that she shouldn't take her words back. Jesse should know that his continuing absences are upsetting her, and that the way he doesn't even notice the changes between them is hurting her, but she's too ready for this awkwardness to be over with already, and she just wants to forget it ever happened and go back to how things were.

_To: Weirdo 12:35am  
I'm not mad, okay? The other day was just… I was Mrs Grumpus. I didn't mean to snap._

It is a long time before he replies again, so long that she's on the edge of sleep when the vibration through the springs and the lighting up of her phone and just barely pulls her back to reality. She reaches blindly for her phone on her bedside table, opening the message with a yawn.

_From: Weirdo 1:12am  
Friends again?_

She smiles and settles further into her pillow, typing out her reply with one hand as her eyes grow heavy again.

_To: Weirdo 1:14am  
I suppose…_

_From: Weirdo 1:15am  
Goodnight, Bee._

_To: Weirdo 1:16am  
Goodnight, Ducky._

* * *

"Now, are you sure you've got everything? You're not leaving anything important behind? Toothbrush? Mixing board? Your dignity?"

Beca rolls her eyes as she hauls her suitcase off her bed, ignoring Jesse as he throws popcorn at her head from her desk chair. She blows at the hair that falls in her face, spinning to glare at her best friend as a pellet hits her temple. Dropping the suitcase, she aims a slap to his arm his way, but he deflects it easily and instead uses his grip on her wrist to pull her towards him, the force spinning the chair as she lands heavily in his lap.

"My dignity is just fine thanks," she huffs, stealing a handful of his popcorn, much to his annoyance.

"After that performance? I doubt it."

Okay, so yes, tripping over during the choreography of the Bella's set at the holiday gala is probably just about the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to her, and yes, the fact it already has a few thousand views online is also fairly damaging to her dignity, but she isn't about to let _him _know that.

So instead, she chucks another handful of popcorn over her shoulder where she knows his face is, and uses his temporary loss of function due to shock to worn her way out of his grip, busying herself with anything that doesn't involve looking or being near him.

Beca's actually really looking forward to going home for Christmas. She's missed their friends and surprisingly, her mother; has missed the safety of North Carolina and the comfort it brings her; has missed the life she has – had – there that she feels that maybe, just maybe, once they go back, will be easy enough to fall back into, and the growing gap between her and Jesse will magically fill again and they'll be back to how they were before… Whatever it is that seems to be pulling him away.

Glancing up at him as she checks her backpack for everything she'll need for the drive back, she sees how he stares off into the distance, how there's a crease between his brow he only ever gets when he's trying to decide something important, how he taps nervously on his knee, popcorn still clinging to the folds in his shirt as he slouches back. Yes, she can feel the black hole in the space between them; how it's slowly sucking everything in around them. She worries that one day, the power of it will become strong enough to suck up their friendship, and she's not sure how she'll manage without that.

Jesse pulls his phone out of his pocket, tapping furiously at the screen, and she sighs to herself. No, she needs to get a grip; stop thinking about him and start thinking about… College? What she's going to be going back to at home? The Bella's?

"Hey Beca," Iris calls as she walks through the door, her long legs bare in just a tiny pair of shorts and a bright pink t shirt with her sorority's name printed across the front. Iris smiles at her, one full of force and lacking in sincerity, as she hitches her thumb over her shoulder. "One of your _pals _is here."

Beca straights up and frowns, partly at the fact she has a visitor just before she leaves and partly due to the strange atmosphere that envelopes the room. Her eyes dart between Jesse and Iris, taking in how he very obviously avoids looking towards her roommate and how she puts too much effort into dumping her keys and putting on a slouchy black cardigan, her back to the rest of the room. Shaking it off, she walks to the door, chuckling as she finds Stacie grinning wickedly at her in a sexy Mrs Claus outfit, a pole holding mistletoe in one hand and a small envelope in the other.

"Hey Beca!" Stacie greets cheerfully, shaking the mistletoe above them. "Ooh, looks like someone owes me a kiss!"

Rolling her eyes, Beca reaches forward to kiss the taller brunette on the cheek, Stacie returning the favour as she laughs lightly. "Have you finished the 'acagrams'?" Beca asks, making quotation marks with her fingers as she cringes a little at what Aubrey had chosen to call the apparent chosen method for fundraising this year. Luckily, Beca is yet to be enforced into such horrors, but she knows her time is looming and she's pretty sure it'll quickly take over as the embarrassing moment of her life.

"You're my last one!" Stacie clears her throat, before settling into a shortened rendition of _Jingle Bell Rocks _complete with the choreography from _Mean Girls _(the fact she knows this is more than a little frustrating) and handing over the envelope. Beca opens it, rolling her eyes at the message inside. Of course her father would try and win her over by hiring her own group to send her off for the holidays.

"Thanks Stacie," she laughs as she brings it to a close, shimmying her hips and winking at Beca.

"You all ready to return home?" she asks, her eyes wide with interest.

"Yeah, we'll probably be leaving in a few minutes."

"Oh, 'we', huh?" Stacie's eyes sparkle with a suggestive amusement, and they both look over her shoulder to see Jesse talking to Iris in hushed tones. "Ah, the boy toy is accompanying you."

Beca shakes her head tiredly. "Jesse's just a friend, but we live a fifteen minute drive from each other so it makes sense to go home together."

"Oh, really?" Stacie pouts. "Only a friend? That sucks, you guys are kinda perfect."

"It's not like that." But Beca can feel herself flushing involuntarily as she waves Stacie off, something the girl does not fail to notice as she gasps loudly.

"Oh my God!" she squeaks. "Do you –"

Beca covers her mouth quickly with her hand as she rushes to close the door behind her, eyes frantic. "Stacie, please, shut up!"

"You totally have a toner for him!" she whisper-yells, a delighted grin passing over her expression. "I totally called this! Lily _so_ owes me ten bucks."

"Wait, you guys have been _betting _– Never mind, look, I do _not _have a toner for him, and how do you even know what that is?"

Stacie just shrugs. "Aubrey had a word after the riff off, thinks I have the hots for Donald but he really isn't my type."

"I thought all guys were your type," Beca doubts, thinking back to a conversation she'd unwillingly been involved in just last week. Stacie shakes her head with a sly smile.

"Yes, but I like a man who will just _take _me you know, he's got to be out there and confident and demanding and – you little bitch, you totally switched topics!" Stacie shoves Beca's shoulder lightly at her realisation. "The point of the matter is, Little Miss Beca, that you fancy your best friend!"

"I don't _fancy _him," Beca defends weakly, her blush full on tomato red now as she looks down at her shoes.

"No – Oh my – Holy shit Beca, are you _in love _with him?"

"No!" she protests immediately, looking up at Stacie in alarm. "That's ridiculous; why would you even _say _that?" But Stacie can see right through her, she knows it by the raised eyebrow and crossed arms Stacie is sporting, and she slumps against her door, groaning quietly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Fuck, I can't believe this! What are you going to do?"

"Continue not telling him?" she tries feebly, because her mind is far too preoccupied by the matter of how she has just admitted, out loud, her feelings for Jesse. Not another soul ever knew; she'd never told anyone, until now, and she's amazed at the giant weight off her chest, how she feels she can breathe so much better now that there's someone in the world who knows her constant battle inside her head, and she can't help the smile that spreads as she realises just how good this all feels.

"You can't – That's not – I mean, isn't this killing you?" Stacie questions in disbelief, a concerned furrow between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"Yes," Beca sighs heavily, "But what can I do? He's my best friend, and I can't lose him. I'd rather that pain than the pain of losing him."

"What if you don't lose him? What if he feels the same?"

Beca refuses to let Stacie's word get her hopes up, because she knows all too well that Jesse doesn't hold any romantic feelings for her. "No, he doesn't, trust me."

"How can you know that for sure? What if he thinks the same thing you do and is –"

"Woah!" The door behind Beca opens and her weight, being too dependent on, stumbles back, a strong pair of arms catching her. Jesse rights her and Beca turns in astonishment, praying that Jesse hasn't heard any of their conversation.

"Hey, Stace," he says easily, smiling at her, before his eyes flicker back to Beca, full of an eager determination. "My mom is parked up and ready for us, if you're…"

"Oh! Yeah, no, totally, I was just saying goodbye." Stacie grins at him, her eyes never leaving Beca's panicked expression. The brunette pulls her close for a hug, whispering into her ear. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Beca pats her back awkwardly, previously unaware they were at that stage of their friendship, and Stacie pulls back with a happy exhale, holding onto her shoulders, the pole digging into Beca's arm.

"I will see you in a few weeks! Have a great Christmas and New Year; don't do anything I wouldn't." Stacie winks and bids them a breezy goodbye, walking away with a sway to her hips in her costume, and leaves Jesse and Beca standing in the corridor, staring after her.

"So… You wanna go?" Jesse asks awkwardly.

"Oh! Yeah, no I'm ready." Beca brushes past him, avoiding his gaze as she slings her backpack onto her back and grabs the handle of her suitcase. Iris is sitting on her bed, staring out of the window with glassy eyes, and Beca frowns a little as she turns to Jesse, still in the doorway, looking at the old gala poster on the wall of the hallway.

"Goodbye, Beca," Iris calls before Beca closes the door, and yep, this is definitely the weirdest day of her life because _what_?

* * *

"I swear to God, I've watched the video about a hundred times!"

"It just gets better every time!"

"Dude and her face as she falls, the horror –"

"And those girls are just _staring _at her!"

"And she's just lying there –"

"Okay, enough!" Beca slams her hand on the table of the diner in an extra effort to grab her friends' attention, who are sitting around her laughing at her expense. A surprisingly snowy Christmas Eve has crept up on them quicker than any of them thought possible and they're not enjoying their own version of Christmas together before the group head off in different directions for New Year – Damien and Phillipa to his grandparents up state, and Freddy Brad to New York City with his big brother, Jenny to her dad's in Florida, and Jesse and Beca to his family's house in Canada. "So what, I fell, big deal. Can we all _please _stop laughing at that and maybe instead focus on the more important issue at hand?"

"What's that?" Jenny asks from beside her, her bright red hair glowing in the bright lights.

"The fact," Beca says slowly to emphasise her point, "that we've been together for the past four days and _no one _is yet to mention Brad's fake eyebrow!"

The table bursts into excitement and hilarity at Brad's expense, who glares at her before launching into an explanation as to why he's had to draw one in (something about the guys at the mechanics he works at downtown getting revenge on him for falling asleep after a night out), and Beca sits back into the booth stool, satisfied with her work. Well, all except for the fact that Jesse seems to have completely zoned out of the conversation, his attention far too wrapped up in his phone – a habit she's noticed him doing more and more often recently.

"Who the hell could you possibly be texting?" she asks him, also noticing how his arm is no longer slung behind her as it had been five minutes ago – and always is, because it's just the natural way they sit together. "All of your friends are here!"

Jesse doesn't even look up at her, his thumbs moving quickly over the touch screen. "Uh, Benji, something about magic, I don't know."

Beca scowls, nudging him in the ribs. "Well you've been texting him a lot these past couple of days, maybe you can come back to the present for a moment to actually pay attention to everyone else? None of us have been together for four months, the least you could do is have the courtesy to pay them a bit of attention."

She hadn't noticed that the table had gone quiet so by the time she's finished her biting remark (that she's not really sure _why _she said, it just came out and she doesn't know why she sounded so mad) she only just notices how five pairs of eyes are staring at her, incredulous, as Jesse's own brown eyes watch her cautiously.

"Uh, okay, I'm sorry." Jesse slides his phone into his jeans pocket, never looking away from her.

"Dude, what did you do?" Brad tries to joke, and Jesse glances at him before looking back to Beca, who is staring down at her lap, angry with herself for snapping at him once again.

"I don't…" Jesse falters. "Wow, that eyebrow is really bad."

And the table settles again into a buzz of teasing conversation, this time however, there is a new tension to the air around them, which only increases once Jesse slips his hand into hers and pulls her away from the booth and towards the counter.

"Okay, this has to stop," he starts when they sit in the stools. "We're having this out, right now."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lies, looking instead at a coffee stain on the edge of the counter top.

"Yes, you do. You've been off with me for months, and I know you keep insisting you're not mad at me but you're lying because this isn't getting better and I'm tired of it. So tell me what your problem is."

Jesse's so utterly clueless as to how he's behaving that it sparks something, something she hadn't known she'd been suppressing until that second when suddenly there's a fire in her belly and all her anger and hurt towards him comes flooding to the surface. "You want to know what my problem is?"

"Yes, I really do."

"My problem," she hisses, trying not to let her voice raise and bring attention to them. "Is that you've been a complete douchebag to me since we got to Barden. You go missing for days, don't reply to my messages or return my phone calls, you skip work at the station and you cancel our plans." Her hand slams down on the counter of its own accord because she's so _mad _at him. "The question is not what _my _problem is, Jesse, but what _yours _is."

Jesse's eyes are wide and he seems a little taken aback by her sudden rush of accusations. "I – Beca, I don't have a problem. I didn't…"

"You didn't what?" she scoffs. "You didn't realise how you've been pushing me to the sidelines for months now? You didn't notice how much of a tool you've been acting since joining the Treble's? You didn't notice how you barely see me anymore?"

"Beca…" He tries helplessly, but she's beyond caring how he feels because damnit, her feelings matter too.

"You know," She laughs humourlessly, hopping down from the stool, "I stupidly thought that if there was one person who wouldn't treat me shit and just leave me behind, that it was you." Shaking her head, she sighs sadly. "I should've known better."

Beca walks away, from him and the rest of her friends, not wanting to be around anyone in her foul mood. She can't be around them, a reminder in itself of Jesse because they were his friends first. Her thoughts snowball as she forcibly pushes the door open and faces the winter chill settling over the town. What if her and Jesse don't get past this? stills he still have them? Or will they stick with their original friend, sidelining the invader Jesse encouraged them to accept?

Jesse, who does not follow her. Who does not stop her from walking away.

But Phillipa does, her blonde hair whipping around in the cold snowy wind as she follows Beca to the parking lot. "Beca, wait up!"

She does not have time to wipe away her tears before Phillipa reaches her, wrapping her arms around the brunette as she tries not to degenerate into full blown hysterics a la Halloween. The arms are comforting, but not in the right way, yet she appreciates them all the same, because it means she's not alone, not really. Jesse may be leaving her behind, but that doesn't mean everyone else is.

"Come on," Phillipa says after a few minutes, "Let's get you home."

Phillipa drives Beca home in an easy silence, knowing not to press too hard or say anything until Beca is ready, and they arrive at Beca's house quicker than she expects (though that may be because she spends most of the ride lost inside her own head, replaying the very one-sided fight over and over).

"Do you want to talk about it?" Phillipa breaches once they are in her room, her perched on the edge of the bed and Beca lying back in her giant bean bag, looking up helplessly at the ceiling. How did this even happen? Why did she feel the need to suddenly call him out on his behaviour?

"I don't know."

"He deserved it, you know. Freddy and Damien have been telling me how distant he's been with them recently. I can only imagine how bad it is for you, actually being with him every day."

Beca sighs, Phillipa's attempt at comforting her making her feel more tired than anything. "He's keeping something from me, Fifi, and I'm scared over what it is."

"I'm sure he'll tell you in time."

"It's been months."

"You know, Beca, I know that your friendship with Jesse is special to you. It's unique and you treasure it with all of your heart." Phillipa looks away, staring into space. "But maybe… Maybe he's moving on. Maybe it's time to let go. People… People start to fall apart, they lose touch. It's natural to have people you love fade in and out of your life. You just have to know when to set them free."

Beca sits up, leaning back on her arms, frowning a little at Phillipa. "Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about Jesse and I anymore?"

"No, no, we are."

"Fifi," Beca broaches cautiously, "What's happened?"

Beca spends the rest of the afternoon soothing her friend the best she can over her disintegrating relationship with Damien, stroking her hair and digging out the emergency ice cream from the back of the freezer, and it's comforting in a way, to share this almost-matching problem with someone. They talk and Phillipa cries and Beca does her best not to, and it's oddly therapeutic, so she lets herself get lost inside a Ben and Jerry's tub, crammed full of cookie dough goodness.

* * *

The snow outside her window is a few inches thick, something she's never seen in all her years in North Carolina. She admires how it glistens in the street light, how it's untouched and untainted, a pure brilliant white that gently blankets everything in sight. Flecks are still falling, sparkling as they pass any beams of light still breaking up the night. Beca feels a little like a child, because it's the early hours of Christmas Day and it has actually _snowed_, and she thinks it might just be the best thing ever.

Beca sits contently on her window seat, looking out at the postcard worthy scene as Christmas music flows quietly through her headphones. She feels calmer now, after her mope with Phillipa and her peaceful evening eating Chinese with her mother and finishing the last mix for her mother's Christmas present. She's almost forgotten the fight with Jesse earlier in the diner, until of course, her phone vibrates in her lap.

_From: Weirdo 2:28am  
I know you're still up; I can see you sitting in your window. So layer up and get down here. We're going out._

To her great surprise, when she looks up she sees Jesse standing behind the fence that seperates her house from the road, and he waves at her in a thick parka coat and black gloves. His heavy boots have left large footprints in her perfect scenery, and as he waves her down, she feels all the feelings from before rush right back.

So she picks up her phone and texts him back.

_To: Weirdo 2:30am  
Dude no!_

Beca watches him pull his phone out of his pocket, using his teeth to pull off one glove and be able to use his phone. Soon, his reply lights up her screen, and he looks back up at her again expectantly.

_From: Weirdo 2:32am  
I did not walk all the way from across town on Christmas morning to be turned down now. Hurry up!_

She gets the feeling this is not something she is going to get away with, so she stares down at him a moment longer before sighing heavily and throwing the blanket off her legs, quickly searching through her wardrobe for anything suitable (which, considering snow is not exactly a normal occurrence for either state she presides in, dwindles her options significantly).

Dressed in her biker boots and a parka coat tied over her woolliest jumper, she treads lightly across the hallway and down the stairs, easing open the front door as quietly as she can. Jesse is now standing on her porch, his nose and cheeks red and his teeth chattering.

"Are you fucking insane?" she says quietly, angrily, as she takes in just how cold he looks.

"Yes." His eyes bore into her and it makes her feel uncomfortable. "I'm insane because my best friend is mad at me and it just _had_ to be the first real snowfall of her life on the same night, and I made her a promise some time ago to be with her when it happens, so I'm hoping that she'll put our fight to the side for a few hours so I can fulfil my promise and also tell her how much of a dick I am for how I've been the last few months."

Beca crosses her arms tightly against the cold. She's already feeling the chill in her bones; she hates to think how bad it is for Jesse. "Come inside, you look hypothermic."

"No, I promised –"

"Jesse, you just walked all the way from the other side of town for me and I'm not letting that be the thing that kills you, Betty I will never forgive me," she argues, holding open the front door. "Get inside and let me make you some hot chocolate."

Beca, who knows Jesse has a thing for her hot coco, is unsurprised when he eagerly dives into the warm house, rubbing his hands together and stomping his feet as quietly as he can on the welcome mat to get the snow off his boots. Beca helps him pull them off and peel off his hat and coat, running into the living room to grab the blanket thrown over the back of the couch to wrap around him. She takes off her own coat and toes off her boots, leaving her in the slouchy jumper she thinks might actually be Jesse's and a thick pair of leggings.

They stay quiet, too many yet unspoken words hanging heavily between them, and she leads him into the kitchen and gets him settled into a breakfast stool before busying herself with grabbing a pan and all the ingredients from the cupboard.

"You know, this was a really stupid move," she finally says as she pours enough milk out for two.

"I promised you," he replies with a shrug, his teeth still chattering around his words.

"You're an idiot." But there's a small smile across her face at how sweet the whole thing is; that he trekked across town to see her, to try and resolve their fight before it got too out of hand, to fulfil a promise she'd forgotten he made. It really is a stupid idea, but at the same time, she's thrilled he did it. Maybe he really does care after all.

"Only for you."

As she turns on the hob and begins the process of heating the milk, she keeps her back to him, trying not to let him see the inner struggle as she fights the part of her that's already forgiven him. Because he's in the wrong, and she deserves better than the way he's been treating her, but the other side of her is arguing that this is _Jesse_, that he'd never intentionally hurt her and that despite the change in him recently, he's still the same guy who's stood faithfully at her side for the past two years; the same guy she fell in love with (no matter how much she wishes otherwise).

"I'm sorry, Beca. I didn't realise how much I was leaving you behind." She can hear the sorrow in his voice, the true regret at his actions, and it's enough that the struggle in her weakens a little more.

"Yeah, well." Not knowing how to finish her sentence, she leaves it open.

"I never meant to hurt you, and the fact I have… You know I'd never want that. I hate that I did."

"I just... I miss you, is all," she confesses, finding it easier to say while she's facing away from him, slowly stirring the peanut butter into the milk the way he likes it.

"I'm sorry."

Beca glances over her shoulder to watch him pulling the blanket tighter around him, his nose still a fierce shade of red to rival a certain seasonally-appropriate reindeer. Jesse's dark eyes are trained on her and she flushes a little, quickly refocusing her attention back on the pan.

But then unexpectedly, his frame is pressed behind her and she's engulfed in the fluffy brown blanket too, his arms around her and his cold cheek against her neck that makes her hiss a little at the sharp change of temperature. "Jesse, what are you –"

"I'm initiating Code Honey Bee," he mumbles into her skin, and the breathless laugh escapes her before she can think to stop it because _seriously_?

"Jesse," she scolds, trying really hard to sound serious, "You are nineteen years of age, grow up already."

"Never!" he cries loudly, tightening his grip around the tops of her arms, and she laughs a little as she hushes him, cautiously of her sleeping mother upstairs. "Not until you forgive me."

"That hardly seems fair."

"_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away!_" he belts, until she has managed to twist in his arms and slap her hand over his mouth, her lips twitching in a smile despite herself.

"Jesse, you are such a pain in the butt, would you please shut up?"

"Only if you forgive me," comes his muffled response through her fingers, and he ends it by poking his tongue out and licking her palm until she pulls it away in disgust, wiping it down his jumper and turning back to the pan because she's pretty sure she's about to burn the milk.

"_I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need_-"

"Jesse I need to get the cocoa powder, let me go."

He shuffles towards the pot with her instead, continuing to sing but quieter this time, just loud enough that the words tickle her ear. "_I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree…_"

"Well that's not true, you love presents," she argues as she piles generous amounts of powder into the pan.

"_I just want you for my own, more than you will ever know_ –"

"Okay, stop, I can't take all this Mariah Carey!" She bats his face away with her free hand as he chuckles, his chest heaving against her back.

"So does that mean you forgive me?" he asks cheekily; she can hear the smug grin in his voice already and it's enough to make her consider letting him carry on with his toneless renditions (that he's doing deliberately, because he obviously has a great voice but he seems to have decided tonight he can't sing a note).

"It's the only way to make you stop singing," she says sadly, "So I guess…"

Jesse is squishing her arms into her ribs as he excitedly lifts her up, and she squeals in surprise as she's ripped away from the pan. Back on solid ground a moment later, she detaches herself from him, ordering him back to the breakfast bar so she can pour their drinks into mugs. She pulls out her favourite and the one he always insists on having – an old, white mug with Beca's handprint from her two year old self printed on the side, the design wearing away a little.

"There's a giant flaw in this plan of yours, you know," she says a few minutes later when they're sipping their drinks and she's sure Jesse is warming up at a suitable rate.

"What's that?"

"It's Christmas day and you have no way of getting home to your family."

Jesse pales a little at the realisation and Beca laughs into her mug, patting his hand sympathetically. "It's okay, mom always makes too much food anyway, and I suppose there's no use letting it go to waste."

His wicked grin almost blinds her and he fumbles underneath the blanket until he's pulled a small package out of his jeans pocket. "Good thing I bought your present then."

Beca bites her lip at the neatly wrapped box shape. She knows what it is without having to open it, and it makes a strange surge of emotion rise up her throat. Looking up at him with glistening eyes, she smiles softly.

"Merry Christmas, Bee," he says quietly.

"Happy Christmas, weirdo."

* * *

The cold Canadian air stings in her lungs as she breathes heavily, pushing her back into the tree in a desperate attempt to hide. A Swanson children tradition, the competitive sport of Hide and Seek had come easily to her last year when she first came to be included in the family-wide affair, and it comes easily again, because she's yet to be found within the ten minute time limit that each seeker gets to scour the grounds of the estate (and surviving five rounds without a fault? It's practically unheard of throughout the history of the game).

The ten minutes passes quickly as she focuses her attention on listening for any movement in the orchard around her. The claxon blows, signalling them to return to base, and Beca can't help the little skip in her step as she celebrates her supreme hiding skills.

"Beca!" A shrill voice squeals, and Beca turns to see Cassie – Jesse's little sister – barrelling out of the trees too, aiming right at her as Beca swoops her up in her arms, the breath in her lungs huffing out quickly because wow, the seven year old has definitely gotten heavier since Beca left for college.

"Oh my god you survived too?! High five!" Beca says enthusiastically, slapping her palm against Cassie's who giggles and asks for a piggy back. They walk back across the giant lawn at the back of the house, aiming towards the fountain where Jesse is already sitting with a load of his cousins, one of them – William – celebrating his record of five finds within the time limit.

"There you are!" Jesse calls as Beca and Cassie jog the last stretch. "Let me guess; orchard?"

"Yeah, and Beca didn't even know I was there!" Cassie says excitedly, bouncing a little on Beca's hips. She lets the younger girl down who runs straight to Jesse, starting to babble about her hiding place as Jesse nods, pretending to pay attention as he does a head count.

"Okay, everyone is back!" Jesse announces once Cassie has reached the end of her rant. "And I think I heard Grandma say something about cookies…"

The children shriek and begin running in the direction of the large white tent, leaving Jesse and Beca to laugh as they go. He slings an arm around her shoulders and they begin the walk back slowly. It's close to midnight, to the end of another year, and she can't help peaking at him as he goes quiet. She knows he enjoys the moments like this, just before the countdown, when he can reflect back on his year and look at all the things that have happened to him.

"Big year, huh," she says quietly when a furrow appears between his eyebrows. "We did a lot this year."

"Yeah." He sighs, and she wraps her arm around his ribs. "We grew up."

"Nah." She shakes her head with a small smile. "We only went to college. That's hardly growing up. If anything, we grew down."

He snorts at her pitiful attempt of a joke and finally looks at her, and she's surprised at the hesitance there. He gets it a lot, and she thinks it might be linked to the thing he's keeping from her for whatever reason. She hopes it really isn't that serious, because the longer he keeps it from her, the more she worries, the more extravagant her possibilities get. Is he sick? Is something wrong with his parents? Cassie? Has he learnt something fatal about someone close to them?

Beca plays with her Christmas present from him; a silver necklace with a gentle music note, something he's been promising to buy her for almost as long as she's known him. She hates how much it must have cost him, but the significance of it all is not lost on her. Knowing it's there, that he put that much effort into it to make her happy, makes her hopeful that they'll get through this tense patch.

As they enter the tent, she smiles at Betty who looks up upon their arrival from her conversation. Beca is surprised to see that it is only a few minutes before the countdown begins, and that a hushed excitement is beginning to spread over the tent as the kids run around, weaving between the adults who are laughing and enjoying themselves. Jesse hangs back, and her arm around him causes her to stop too, and she watches him as he takes a few calculating breaths.

"Beca," he begins, and she knows he's being serious by the use of her actual name. "I… I'm glad we went to Barden together."

"Thanks?" she says as more of a question, not really knowing where this is going.

"And you know how sorry I am for how I've been acting recently, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she just nods her head.

"You're my best friend, Bee, you know you mean the world to me."

Tightening her grip around him just a little to make him look at her, she swallows back the quips and instead nods again. "Hey, the feeling's mutual okay, so whatever it is you're freaking out over; stop. I'm not going anywhere."

Jesse just watches her for a moment longer before looking back to the tent, and Beca rests her head on his shoulder, content to spend this last minute of the year with him.

"Well, looks like we're the only lonely hearts left," she jokes, and Jesse laughs uneasily, her eyes darting around the crowded structure as people bunch together in the brisk night air, waiting eagerly for the countdown. His mum and dad, aunts and uncles, his grandparents and his older cousins, all pairing off with their other halves as they listen out for the beginning of the last ten seconds of the year.

"I have to tell you something!" Jesse blurts suddenly, his fingers digging into the skin of her arms as he twists her to look at him. Something coils in her gut; suddenly she doesn't want to know his secret.

"10! 9!" People begin to chant.

"Now?!"

"It's important, you have to know before -"

"8! 7! 6!"

"Jesse -"

"I can't let this year go without telling you."

"5! 4!"

"Jesse –"

"Please, Beca."

"Okay, fine, just tell me."

"3! 2! 1!"

"I'm dating Iris!"

As the stroke of midnight hits, and people cheer happily around them, it's like time slows and the noises are muffled out as they both stand there in their own little bubble. _I'm dating Iris. _The words reverberate around her, inside her, cracking everything it hits. Beca can do nothing but stare up in horror at her best friend, her heart shattering with the turn of the year.

* * *

**So some notes:**

**Peanut Butter Fudge Day does exist(November 20th), as does Ferris Wheel Day (February 14th) and Your Welcomegiving Day (the day after Thanksgiving). I did my research on those ones.**

**There are a lot of references in this one, including _Foundations_ - Kate Nash (chapter title), _The Avengers _(2012), _The House on Sorority Row_ (1985), _Corpse Bride_ (2005), _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ (1975), _Mean Girls_ (2004), _Community_ (2009 - Present), _Winnie the Pooh _- A. A. Milne (First appearance 1924), _Oops I Did It Again_ - Britney Spears, _Last Christmas _- Wham, _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ - Mariah Carey... and maybe some more that I didn't notice upon my idiot check. I don't reference a lot so I'm going to try and do better.**


	9. Ducky Throws a Tantrum

**This is a _terrible_ chapter and I apologise (like this is probably the worst thing I've ever written, and eventually I will come back to it and make it somewhat presentable). I just needed to get it out of the way so we could get to the important bit. Just pretend this is amazing, okay?**

**(Thank you to the beautiful as ever Star-crossed92 for her Sharktopus suggestion. You rock.)**

* * *

**9 – DUCKY THROWS A TANTRUM**

Beca admired the new tattoo that graced across the span of her lower back. "It's beautiful," she said quietly, transfixed by the image in the dirty mirror as she struggled to look over her shoulder and see it properly. "Thanks, this is really great."

"S'okay," grunted the grungy tattoo artist, cleaning off his needles and paying her barely any attention.

"What do you think?"

Beca turned around so Jesse could see the expanse of the design engraved into her, the skin red and raised. His eyes were glued to her back, a small smile gently lifting the corners of his mouth. Mumbling something under his breath, he stepped a little closer into the tiny back room behind the reception desk of the seedy tattoo shop. "Your favourite lyrics, huh?"

"Yes, they're motivational."

"You should have got the Ghostbusters theme, would have been much more fun to read." Beca's hand collided with his arm and his smile grew, revealing his teeth and an almost silent laugh. "Okay, okay, it's good, I like it."

"Thanks." Beca hid behind her hair a little when a blush tinted her cheeks and held her shirt up as the artist bandaged her up, blushing again when she caught Jesse eyeing the bare skin of her stomach. He just grinned at her again, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

After she had lowered her shirt and paid for the job, Jesse and Beca walked out into the warm sun, Beca letting the warmth hit her face as she leant back with a small smile. Her skin tugged but she ignored it, laughing a little at Jesse guiding her around passers-by with her elbow, too lost in the heat to notice.

"Thanks for coming with me by the way," she said when she opened her eyes to look up at him – he'd gone through another growth spurt, towering over her impressively in a way that he found great pleasure in teasing her over.

"Well someone had to make sure they spelt it right," he said dismissively, staring ahead of him. "Plus anything could have happened to you, being voluntarily defaced in such a place."

"Aw, Jesse, were you worried about me?" she teased.

"I'm always worried about you, Bee," he replied seriously, glancing down at her with an unidentifiable edge of his whole demeanour that made her narrow her eyes and quickly look away.

Jesse's words sat uncomfortably with her. Beca was yet to be fully at ease with their friendship, a little cautious about just how easily she had been taken by him and how he had slotted himself so perfectly into her life. The words implied something – she didn't know what, didn't really want to – that she wasn't ready for, so she picked on the thing she knew she could work with. "You really have to stop calling me that!"

"Why, does it annoy you?"

"_Yes_," she said, exasperated.

"Then why would I stop?" His mischievous grin made her roll her eyes as they walked leisurely along the street and Beca welcomed the comfortable silence that fell over them for a moment.

"Beca," he started hesitantly, his hand worrying at his chin. Turning her head slightly to see how he gaped a little, trying to find the words, she already had an idea of what he was trying to say and had no desire to hear it.

"I'm not going to talk about it," she cut off tiredly, already bored with the change in topic.

"I think you kind of need to –"

"You promised you wouldn't question or mention it, so drop it," she said, a little more forcefully than she intended, but he was ruining her good mood from getting her first tattoo and the one thing she did not need to be reminded of was her father's activities a few states away.

"It's been two weeks," he tried again after a moment, and though she refused to look at him, she could hear the concern in his tone; it just made her angrier, because she didn't _need _his concern. Beca was doing just fine.

"If you don't stop talking, I'm not taking you for ice cream."

Jesse sighed quietly and she was sure that her stubbornness in not discussing this had been increasingly worrying him since she told him in the quad thirteen days ago. She appreciated it, she really did, because actually having someone who really worried about her – cared for her – was new and humbling, but Beca was really doing okay with the whole thing. Sure, she'd been angry, but who gave a damn anyway? Her father could do what he wanted. The moment he walked out of their house was the moment he walked out of her life, and she had no desire to get dragged back into any of her parent's drama.

"Fine," Jesse succumbed, and then his voice once again was laced with amusement, "But only because I miss Joel."

* * *

Beca rolled her eyes as Damien ran down her driveway, a screaming Phillipa bouncing around on his back, racing towards Brad's car down the street. Phillipa looked over her shoulder to haphazardly wave at Beca, clinging to Damien for dear life, as Beca stood in her doorway laughing at the sight of her new friends leaving for the evening.

"How long before we get a text about them defiling Brad's backseat?" Jesse mused from behind her, peaking over Beca's shoulders to watch Brad trying to pry the other two apart to get them in the car. His hand brushed over her back and she shifted a little, the fresh tattoo still healing and a little sore.

"I give it about…" Beca pulled Jesse's arm towards her to check his watch. "…Six minutes, starting now."

"You willing to bet on that?"

Beca looked at him tediously as she closed the front door behind her. "You need to stop with that already. Just because you lost that tiny bet at Joel's last week doesn't mean you now have to somehow prove yourself."

"Come on, Bee," Jesse whined as he followed her into the kitchen. "It'll be fun!"

She shook her head. "You what _would _be fun?"

"What?"

"If you left my house; seriously why are you still here?" Beca asked, only half-serious because it was nice having him around really. Her mother had skipped town for the weekend with a friend – some kind of "much needed break", probably thanks to her father's new bed companion – so the house felt even more empty than to what Beca had grown accustomed to. It felt like all the rooms echoed, and the too-silent nights had her tossing and turning in the vain hope of getting any sleep.

Not that Jesse actually knew this. Though maybe he did, judging by how he had been lingering around since arriving far too early that morning.

"My mom has her book club over," he grumbled, falling into a kitchen stool as Beca started rooting through the cupboards. "If I go home now, I'll get dragged into it, and there isn't much worse than that."

"Not even _Sharktopus_?"

Jesse winced, remembering the 89 minutes he had wasted during their lunch period last week. "Close, but worse."

Beca closed the last cupboard with a resounding bang. "There is no food in this house, so if you want to eat here, we're going to have to order in."

"Sure, what do you fancy?" he asked as he pulled his phone out, scrolling through his contacts where she knew he had the numbers of at least a dozen takeout places.

"Ooh!" Beca leant over the counter towards him. "What about that pizza we had at Damien's a few weeks ago?"

"Definitely! You want the same again?" Beca nodded and Jesse called them up, putting in their order. Beca tried not to watch him, hoping to busy herself with doing the washing up left over from their study-session-turned-general-hang-out. But her eyes kept drifting to Jesse, pacing by the fridge as he talked animatedly into the phone. It was weird, having this new group of friends who studied with you and actually seemed to give a damn. But a _good _weird. Beca had never realised the true benefits of having a group of people like that, but now she knew the feeling of it all, it made her want to smile every time she woke up in the morning and remembered what she was going to be seeing at school that day.

Jesse's group of friends had accepted her so quickly that it caught her a little off guard, but she enjoyed spending time with them. Freddy had taken some kind of big brother role for her, and discovering his presence in her English class had delighted her. Phillipa seemed to relish the presence of another girl in the group – Beca got the impression that her and Jenny didn't particularly get on very well, which Beca wasn't too surprised at, giving how their personalities opposed each other completely – and had only been mildly disappointed to discover Beca's complete aversion to girly shopping trips and trips to the salon. Damien – who had already christened her "Mitchie", much to her dismay and the group's delight - was a goof ball with a kind heart, who seemed to only have eyes for his girlfriend. Brad's flirty demeanour was easy to bounce off and he had immensely enjoyed informing everyone in her first week as to the story behind her now faded scar. Jenny was… Well, Jenny was _Jenny_; outspoken and loud, she was the black sheep of the group yet also somehow was the one that held them all together.

"Earth to Beca!" Jesse's hand waving in front of her face pulled her back from her thoughts and she grimaced as she slapped away his hand. "I said the pizza will be here in about half hour, so what do you want to do until then?"

Beca shrugged. "I don't know. I mean I guess we could do some studying, considering we didn't actually get anything done today."

But Jesse was already shaking his head miserably, his gaze focussed on his phone screen. "No way, far too boring." And then he laughed loudly, thrusting the device towards her. Beca took it, laughing at the message from Brad that they had accurately predicted.

* * *

Jesse groaned for what had to be the fifteenth time in about an hour. "This is ridiculous, there's no way this is actually _possible_."

Beca spluttered with laughter at the intense concentration he was giving to his plastic cup, trying desperately to get the rhythm she had so easily picked up on over an hour before. "It really isn't that hard Jesse, look." Beca showed him again, getting him to copy her move for move, but he soon messed up again and, frustrated, threw the disposable cup onto the pile of empty pizza boxes.

"Do not tell me you're throwing a tantrum, Ducky," she teased, delighted at how sour-faced he was over the whole thing.

"No," he sulked, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff.

"What are you upset over?" she asked in amusement. "The fact you suggested it yet I found it easier to do than you, or the fact that you lost the bet?"

He blew out a deep breath, looking away from her childishly. "I am _not _getting your name tattooed on me."

Beca shrugged, a grin still spread across her face as she readjusted her crossed legs. "You're the one who made the bet!"

"You didn't even want us to keep betting on things; now suddenly you're all for it?"

"Well yeah, of course I am, because I get to be stuck on you for the rest of your life." Beca laughed again at his unhappy expression. "You're not getting out of this; I won fair and square."

Jesse glared at her. "You're the worst friend ever."

Beca pulled herself up from her bedroom floor, ruffling his shaggy hair as she walked past him. "Come on, I'll make up for it with some hot chocolate."

Jesse got up to follow her. "I'll forgive you if you let me put a movie on."

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to pick!" he protested as they walked down the stairs.

"I do, and it's a no."

"What is it then?"

"You're going to make me watch that stupid horror movie you and Freddy were talking about earlier," she replied, jumping over the last step and landing neatly on the laminate floor.

He went quiet for a second before admitting, "Okay, so yes, you did know - but come on, Bee! You have to see at least _one _horror movie in your lifetime."

"If you stop going on about it, I'll make you my special hot chocolate?" she tried to persuade him, listening to him hop up on the counter as she pulled a pan out of the cupboard next to the sink.

"How 'special' is it?"

"It's pretty damn-"

"Becaaaa!" a voice sung from the hall, and Beca froze in her movements, eyes wide. "I know I'm not supposed to be home until tomorrow but Clarisa needed to get back for her kids – one of them has a fever or something."

Jesse frowned at her when Beca turned around, a panicked expression on her face. "Your mom?" he mouthed, and Beca nodded frantically, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do I smell what I think I smell?" the high pitched voice spoke up again, closer this time, and Beca's mother appeared in the kitchen door, smiling at her daughter before glancing at Jesse, stunned by his presence. "Oh, hello."

"Hi." Jesse quickly climbed down from the counter, rushing over to offer his hand out to the older, glamorous looking lady. "I'm Jesse."

"Wow." Her eyes darted between Jesse and Beca in slight confusion before accepting his hand and shaking it daintily. "I'm Sadie, Beca's mom."

"Jesse is a friend from school," Beca supplied, trying to ignore the tension in the room. "We've been studying but were just about to put on a movie so…"

Sadie seemed to come back to life, a polite smile caressing her features as she backed out of the room. "Of course, don't mind me, I'll make myself scarce upstairs. It was nice to meet you, Jesse."

"You too." Jesse watched her leave as Beca turned her attention back to readying the ingredients. "So that's your mom," he stated when he turned back to her, and she nodded absently.

"Yep. There's a cupboard to your right, could you grab some mugs? Mine is the purple one at the front, you can pick out whichever you like."

Jesse clattered about in the cupboard for a few minutes before appearing at her side with two mugs, and she finished preparing their drinks in silence, hoping to avoid any further conversation about her mother. She poured the drink out of the pan and into the mugs, dumping the pan in the sink and grabbing a pack of biscuits from the cupboard before leading Jesse into the front room. He carried the mugs carefully, putting them down on coasters on the coffee table as Beca excused herself to grab her laptop.

Arriving back in the room a few minutes later, Jesse watched from the couch as Beca plugged her laptop into a lead attached to the TV, wordlessly gesturing to the device to allow him to load the movie. Beca had no real desire to watch it, but movies meant Jesse would stay quiet, and that meant she got to avoid talking about either of her parents which he was still trying to do since the Dad Situation almost a month before.

"I need to ask you for a favour," Jesse said nervously out of no where, disturbing the strange silence that had settled over the pair. Beca pulled her legs underneath her in one corner of the couch, cradling her mug in her hands.

"Why do I feel I'm not going to want to do it?"

"You know how it's Valentine's Day next week?" he started, walking back towards her. Beca nodded nervously and he continued. "Well the glee club are doing this fundraiser –"

"I'm not doing anything that involves the _glee_ club," she interrupted, watching as the desperation in his gaze grew.

"_Please_, Beca, Georgie is down with pneumonia and we need a female lead; no one else has her range and I know you can sing so please –"

"Jesse, I'm not singing in some ridiculous, cheesy fundraiser," she insisted, trying not to smile at how his face scrunched up sadly and then trying not to sigh at how it _almost_ made her give in.

"If you do it, I will get your name tattooed forever into me," he said seriously, ignoring that the movie had already begun and focusing completely on the task at hand – she could tell by the set of his jaw and the anxiety across his face that he wasn't going to drop it, that he was really in need and that she was probably a last resort. Beca pursed her lips, trying to fight against the part of that thought it couldn't be _that_ bad, because it really, really could.

"You're already doing that," she tried weakly, but Jesse seemed to spot her waning because he edged closer to her on the couch, almost knocking her mug in his eagerness.

"You pick the design and everything, I swear, we can go tomorrow! Just please, please please _please_ –"

"Jesse," she whined helplessly, "Don't make me."

"This is really important to me," he insisted, leaning towards her in a way that made her forget how to breathe for a second. Beca scowled and Jesse jumped up happily when she groaned and closed her eyes as she nodded once, removing her mug from the vicinity before sweeping her up in a bear hug. "Thank you so much Bee! I promise, you won't regret this!"

"I'm already regretting it," she muttered unhappily, but she saw the size of his grin and couldn't help feeling a little proud of herself for putting it there, settling back into her seat with an exaggerated put-out sigh.

Jesse flopped down on the couch beside her, leaning a little against her arm as he gestured wildly to the TV, explaining all they had missed and rambling on about the different characters. She managed to catch on that the movie was something to do a sorority being picked off one by one before zoning out a little, her eyes flickering to him as he watched avidly.

It was weird, seeing him up close that way, and kind of strange; she had always known Jesse was attractive, even with his remaining baby fat and far too long in length hair that she kept insisting he get cut. But with him so focused on the screen, she could actually study his features without being over conscious of him catching her, and suddenly she realised just how _beautiful _he was. It wasn't even the way he looked physically – it was more the way that she knew him now, well enough at least to be able to spot how his personality seemed to shine out of every pour. He lit up every room he walked into and had this strange effect over her she couldn't pinpoint; Jesse's eyes really were a window to soul, so expressive and enrapturing –

"You okay there, Bee?" he joked as she finally realised he was watching her watch him, and she quickly shook the strange feelings her thought process had stirred away, turning back to the screen with a forced smile.

"Fine."

Jesse seemed doubtful, but turned back to the screen too. "See her?" He pointed at an older character she thought was called Mrs Slater. "They dubbed all of her lines in post-production. Apparently her voice wasn't scary enough."

"Fascinating," she said dryly, grabbing a biscuit from the packet on the arm of the couch beside her. Beca tried to focus on the film and not Jesse, the effort meaning that when lip-dub woman was suddenly shot, the bang of the gun made her jump enough that Jesse turned to her, a wide grin on his face.

"Shut up," she muttered, jamming her palm into his face when his wicked smile just grew at her reaction, trying to wipe it off. He snapped his teeth at her playfully and she retracted it, trying not to let his laugh infect her with one of her own. Instead, she shifted around a little until she was comfortable, doing her best to ignore the stirring in her gut that still hadn't disappeared since she got lost in her discoveries over the boy sitting easily beside her.


	10. Ben, Jerry and Jack

**Just as a word of warning, I will probably be absent for a while due to a mountain of work to complete in a relatively small amount of time. I just wanted to get this chapter out to you all first.**

**Thank you for all of your support and loveliness! I read through your reviews and kept thinking 'I could totally make that happen', so hopefully, this is dramatic enough and actually okay... Let me know!**

* * *

**10 – BEN, JERRY AND JACK**

"What?"

Her breathlessness is making her feel dizzy, her head spinning and her body struggling to stay upright as she tries to process what just happened. Jesse had finally confessed his big secret, at the stroke of midnight, at New Years. _I'm dating Iris._ It won't stop reverberating off the corners of her mind, off the walls of her hollowed out heart.

It's clever of him, really, because she's stuck in Canada with his entire family, nowhere or no way to run, her options in how to react dwindling significantly with every passing second; not that that's much of an issue, because she's glued to the spot, just gawking up at him and his eyes are full of caution and guilt and regret, his mouth down turning as he groans and tightens the hold she didn't know he had around her arms.

"Shit, Beca, I'm sorry, that... That was wrong."

"Wrong?" Still in her daze, she tries to clear the fog across her mind caused by his words still hurtling around inside of her. _I'm dating Iris. _"Wrong about you dating my roommate or wrong about the way you just… Blurted it out, no warning, because you – you what, needed to clear your conscience before the clock rolled over? I mean seriously, dude, what the hell _was _that?!" she practically _spits _at him, her voice raising with every word, the intensity behind them growing as the fog clears and she starts to see Jesse in a whole new light that she doesn't think she likes all that much.

Jesse cringes. She wants to slap him and punch him and run away from him all at once, and the desire must be evident on her face because he steps back a little, just out of arms reach. "I shouldn't have said it that way, I know, I'm sorry I just... God I'm not doing very well here am I?"

"You think?" She laughs humourlessly, still staring at him because it's like no other part of her body is working but her mouth and she's trapped by his words, unable to get away. Her hand raises to run through her hair as she struggles to speak, "What - _fuck_. Shit. I... I can't do this."

Finally getting function back, she steps away sluggishly before running into the house. Jesse is dating Iris. Her roommate Iris. Pretty, blond, sorority chick Iris. Exact-opposite-of-Beca _Iris_.

It's like her heart hasn't just shattered - its liquidated, threatening to spill out of her chest at any moment as she struggles to breathe around it, the remains drowning her, and she's stumbling aimlessly through the large kitchen area looking for some indication of which way is up. Gripping the counter for support she tries to catch her breath, to find some form of brain function that will allow her to process that her best friend, the boy she's desperately in love with, is dating not just anyone - but the girl she shares a dorm with. The girl who hates Beca, who Beca hates in return, the girl who...

_Fuck._

How did she not see this?! The tense atmosphere when they were both in the same room, the hushed conversations when they thought she wasn't looking, the extended absences, the secrecy and the hiding and the strange glint in his eyes after he finally resurfaced. It has all been so obvious that stupid, _stupid_ Beca didn't even think to put the pieces together.

"Beca, wait!" Jesse rushes into the room after her, desperately searching her out, his expression frantic. _Go away_, she wants to yell at him, _I loved you and you broke me and I can't even look at you right now._ "Please, just let me explain!"

"What is there to explain, Jesse?" she says monotonously, taking calculated steps around the counter, making sure every time that her feet will hold her and not lead to her crashing down with the rest of her world. "You're screwing my roommate. Congratulations."

"I'm not..." He starts but then stills, taking in her perfect mask. Jesse knows the look, she knows he does, and he hates it – he's told her repeatedly so, and there's a sick sense of mild satisfaction at the way his shoulders go slack at the slight of it. "Don't cut yourself off, let me talk to you."

"I really do not need to hear the sordid details of your little affair." Pulling open the fridge for something - _anything_ - to do, she stares unseeingly at the contents, until he slams it shut and a steely determination fuels him to grab her wrists and pull her towards him, his jaw tense and his attitude stubborn.

"Beca Mitchell, just stop and let me explain."

It's enough. She had been so close to snapping anyway, and his demand that she actually spend her time _listening_ to his pitiful excuses pushes her over the edge. It's enough because she's had enough.

"How could you - How_ could _you?!" she accuses, surprised by the amount of betrayal in her tone. "This is why you've been so distant, isn't it? Why you go missing for days? Oh my god I'm such an _idiot_ -"

"I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to... To leave you behind like that. I didn't - I didn't even notice, how ridiculous is that? I didn't notice how terribly I was treating my best friend."

Swallowing down the tears that prickle at her eyes, she can't manage more than a whisper as she asks, "How long?" He does not reply and she runs her fingers through her hair, her voice rising too high as she repeats, "How long, Jesse?"

"I don't know really." Jesse looks away for a moment, like he's intent on the memories of _her_ in his head and she feels a little sick. "It was... Stupid, at first. I didn't like her, because she was mean to you and... And then there were a few times we ended up alone in your room and... I don't know, she just... She seemed cool, you know? Then we bumped into each other at a party, and the Treble's performed at a gathering held by her sorority and... Somewhere along the line we just started hanging out and then that turned into a few dates and..."

If she had felt queasy before, she feels horrendous now, as she steps away from him, unable to bear the weight that is crushing down on her as his betrayal of her sinks in. "And all the texting! The secret phone calls! Oh my - fuck, Jesse, seriously?!"

"Okay," he says soothingly, holding up his hands in an attempt to calm her down, "I know you're mad I kept this from you but -"

"There is no 'but' in this situation and that isn't just why I'm mad at you! I mean, Iris?! _Really_? You couldn't have chosen _any_ other girl on campus to sleep with?" She steps back again, needing the space that he won't give because he's following her, grabbing for her again desperately. "Jesse - _stop!_ Stop touching me!"

He holds his hands up in surrender again, letting her put space between them, and she tries hard to not think of it as a representation of the distance between them recently. She's so mad, so hurt, and he must see it because he's getting more and more frantic, trying desperately to explain himself. "Beca, please, can you just calm down -"

"Calm down? Fuck no! You - you lied to me! _You lied to me!_ And we - we promised! Fuck, Jesse, what have you _done_?"

"Jesse? B-Beca?" Cassie appears in the kitchen, and Beca pales at the sight of the younger girl who looks a little frightened by all the shouting. How much had she heard? How long had she been standing there, watching her brother and his friend fall apart?

Rushing towards her - and a little glad for the break from the intensity of the fight that was too quickly developing between her and Jesse - Beca leans down and strokes Cassie's mousy brown hair, smiling softly into her dark eyes.

"Hey there, monkey. I'm sorry for the noise; your brother is just being an idiot."

"Beca..." Jesse sighs behind her, but she ignores him, continuing to focus her attention on the child in front of her.

"You okay, kiddo?"

"Mama said I have to go to bed and I wanted to say goodnight first."

"Well how about we go get your pyjamas on and ready, yeah? Sound fun?"

Cassie grabs onto Beca's hand, looking around to her big brother. "Are you coming?"

Jesse hesitates, taking in Beca's replaced mask. He never looks away as he replies to his sister, "Sure, Cas, I'll come with you."

They both walk somewhat reluctantly towards the stairs, Cassie babbling on about the excitement of getting to stay up so late. Beca and Jesse do not speak, and she does not return his gaze. She needs the break, the chance to put her thoughts in order that he so easily messes up when he watches her so intently.

It hurts. Jesse has never really dated anyone in all the time she has known him, so she had never really thought about it and how she'd feel about it. But Iris? Is she the representation of his 'type'? Is she his idea of the perfect girl? Beca cannot compete with that. She isn't peppy or ditsy or overzealous or flirty or anything at all like her. How does she ever stand a chance if that's what he goes for?

There's also a part of her, the part of her being squashed away by its more dominant counterpart, that is still rational. That, as his best friend, is angry at him. She is mad that he has chosen a girl like Iris, a girl she knows is not exactly the nicest person on the planet, a girl who is so undeserving of his warmth and compassion and his _heart_. Iris is not good enough for Jesse. Not even close.

Cassie leads them into her bedroom, still talking a mile a minute about the activities of the evening, so it takes them quite a stretch of time to quell her hyperactive ramblings enough to get her dressed into her pyjamas and ready for bed. Jesse kisses her on the forehead, ruffling her hair fondly and heading to the door, and Beca accepts the hug Cassie offers her. Cassie has always been Beca's second favourite Swanson, and her over-perceptiveness combined with her child-like view on the world is probably what influences the words Cassie whispers into Beca's ear.

"Don't let my brother be so silly. He loves having you around too much to be able to see you so sad."

Beca withdraws a little, smiling down at her. "I'm not sad, monkey."

"Yes you are. And I don't like to see you sad. So don't let my idiot big brother hurt you and instead just…" Cassie's smile grows and it's oddly similar to Jesse's, Beca thinks. "Just tell him how you feel."

Beca laughs, not sure what to say, so she gently pushes on the girl's shoulders to get her to settle back into her pillow. "Okay, Cassie. Goodnight."

Jesse's hand on her back guides her towards their room once she's gently shut Cassie's bedroom door, but she shakes him off as soon as she understands where they're going. It's dark so he turns on the light, illuminating the mess they left it in earlier with clothes strewn everywhere and both of their beds unmade, back when they were laughing and joking and enjoying themselves and not possibly being ripped apart by a revealed secret.

It is a while before either of them speaks; Beca heads straight for her side of the room, folding up her clothes for something to do with her hands, while Jesse falls into the window seat, looking out on the white marquee below. Neither know what to say, the silence killing them little by little, yet she refuses to be the first to speak. No - this is his fault, he can be the one to try and fix it.

Eventually, Jesse exhales heavily and quietly says, "Can we start again please?"

To which she tiredly replies, "I don't know."

"I should have told you sooner." Beca hears him moving behind her but she keeps herself turned away, not ready to face any of this, yet being forced to all the same. "You're right, I am an idiot. I thought that if I told you when it first happened, that you'd be mad at me and I don't know, I guess I thought it was a one-time thing." He's closer, she can feel him, and the edges of her broken heart throb. The shirt in her hands falls back onto her mattress. "It was a stupid drunken kiss at first. It was... It didn't mean anything; not really; not then. I barely even remembered until I saw her in your room the day before Halloween, and she didn't seem any different so I figured she didn't remember either."

Beca doesn't know what to say - is there anything to say? - so she keeps her lips pressed together and silent. He's just behind her, so close she can feel his body heat, but she carries on folding clothes like he never started talking.

"Then after we woke up the morning after Halloween and went back to yours and you went to shower... She confronted me about it and - she said she likes me, Bec, and I just thought; why not?"

Beca's eyes snap shut against the burn of tears behind her nose. No, she will not cry over this. She will not waste her tears.

"And I knew there were a lot of answers to that question and that it was stupid to... To think this would be okay and just; look, I'm sorry, really and truly." Jesses hand reaches out enough to graze her and her breathing hitches in its controlled conditioning to stop herself from breaking down. "I guess I didn't think it would go anywhere, and why make it more awkward for you and her? But... It did go somewhere. And then it became less a thing of protecting you and more just... Never finding the right time, never knowing when you'd be okay with it."

Beca clenches her fists, fighting hard the tears still springing to her eyes. One falls, and she lets go of a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "What…" Her voice croaks so she tries again. "What do you want me to say, Jesse?"

"I don't know," he says heavily, and she steps around so she's facing him, letting him see the tear track and the pain because he should know how very not okay she still is about this.

"I'm serious, tell me what to say because I don't know right now. I'm so _mad _at you, because you just…" She clutches her hands up in frustration, trying to find the words to explain herself. "You didn't trust me, Jesse. You… You say you didn't tell me to protect me but that's _bullshit_. We both know you kept it from me because you were protecting yourself."

"I just… I didn't want to hurt you, Beca," he says gently, reaching for her hand but she snatches it away. They can't be like that anymore.

"Well congratulations on that front, you did really well," she says sarcastically.

"Beca…"

"I hope you're very happy together," she manages in barely a whisper. "But right now… I need to just –"

She throws her hands up, moving to walk away, but his sudden grip around her arm is tight enough to make her cry out as he yanks her back to him. Loosening his hold, he keeps it firm as he stares into her eyes, her soul, and it's so intense that she can't remember how to breathe because he's so close, so powerful over her small frame. She needs to look away to calm her erratic heart but seems to have lost the ability, imprisoned by his dark brooding eyes.

"Stop walking away from me," he breathes.

She can feel it in her chest, how the binds between them are being pulled taut, being tested to their extreme. It suffocates her; _he _suffocates her; he's still just staring right through her, like he's able to see every one of her secrets, of her hidden desires and passions and all of them relate to him, and it's like he _knows _it, daring her to stop lying to the world and just _do it_.

So she does.

The crack of her hand against his cheek seems to echo around the room, her skin tingling from the contact, and yet he looks barely affected, like she didn't just bitch slap him with a scary amount of force. Beca's expression falls as she realises what she's done, horror leaking through her veins, but he's already shaking his head, his brown eyes so very, very calm.

"Did that help?"

"No." She presses the same hand back to his tender cheek, matching up the red imprint of her hand to the real thing. The skin is hot and it makes another tear escape. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I deserve it."

Beca leans her forehead against his shoulder, trying to gain some form of composure. "I don't know what to say to you," she admits eventually, and his hand hesitantly rests on her hip, his thumb stroking in soothing circles, and she lets it calm her, slowly easing the pain caused by his revelation.

"I don't know either," he says sadly. Her hand falls from his cheek as she inhales deeply, letting the smell of his favourite cologne infiltrate her lungs before exhaling and stepping back, his arm dropping back to his side and his brown eyes full of anguish. The space helps clear her head just a little, so when she next meets his gaze, she doesn't feel so horribly on display, clueless and vulnerable.

There is nothing he can say to make any of it okay, that can make up for her months of confusion as her best friend began to pull away. In the way he seems cautious to approach her again, but desperate to do so anyway - his hands are twitching by his side and his gaze flickering all over her body, never seeming to rest - she can see just how sorry he his, how he really never did intend to hurt her.

And Jesse doesn't even really know the full extent of her pain. He doesn't know how she feels; how seeing him sometimes makes her forget everything, past and present; how he knows her so completely because she trusts him unfalteringly; how, when he touches her, she feels like the most special person on the planet. Jesse can't possibly know why she is reacting so badly, because she's never had the guts to tell him how _she_ feels in the first place.

So she bites her tongue and tries to think of a happier place as she says, "Does she make you happy?"

"I don't know," he confesses with an uneasy shrug, "It's too early to tell, I guess. I just... I know I like her, and that I - I enjoy spending time with her. And I want you to like her, Beca, because you know your opinion means everything and..." He trails off when she just stares blankly at him, stepping slowly towards her to take her hand softly in his own. "You'd like her, if you gave her a shot. She's funny and easy going and nice; I know you don't think so but she is, truly, once you get to know her."

Beca smiles sadly despite the tight aching in her chest that makes the colours of the world seem too dull, too lifeless. "You really couldn't have picked anyone else?" she says again, but her tone is lighter despite her glassy eyes, causing him to exhale in quiet relief and pull her by their joined hands into him, engulfing her in an emotionally-charged hug that makes the just-disappeared tears spring up again.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers into her hair, over and over, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

Beca surrenders to the hold, letting her weight lean into him and her arms loop around him, her head falling once more onto his chest with his heart steadily beating in a familiar pattern to her attuned ears. His grip tightens and his heart flutters for just a moment. It occurs to her this might be the last time they get to be like this.

* * *

It would seem the only thing standing between Jesse and Iris becoming public knowledge is Beca.

Or _was_, because she knows now and, when her feet hit Barden soil the first day back, so, it seems, do the rest of the campus. There are a lot of strange glances and Beca feels just about as uncomfortable as humanly possible, Jesse at her side talking a mile a minute and apparently unaware of the way everyone is watching them, judging them, talking about them -

She might be overreacting. She's not sure on much these days.

"Beca have you been listening to a word I just said?" Jesse asks, finally catching her attention again as she stares at him in surprise for a moment before nodding quickly, her gaze turning promptly back to the path ahead.

"Yeah, totally," she lies, and then, "I'm just going to go to my room, unpack and stuff..."

Jesse looks nervous again as he opens his mouth to speak, losing the words as a brisk breeze hits Beca and causes her to realise the reason behind his own discomfort.

"Oh. Of course."

"I'm sorry, I know this is really awkward," he rushes to apologise, adjusting his hold on his suitcase as they approach her building, "Its weird for all of us but we can figure it out, right? it doesn't have to stay this way."

"Jesse, its fine, chill." Though its not but, Beca tries to reassure him anyway. "I have a Bella's meeting in an hour anyway." It's a lie, but it gets the job done.

"Already?"

"Aubrey's a control freak remember." Beca walks through the external door to her building when Jesse holds it open for her and they walk the rest of the journey to her room in an unfamiliar silence, lugging their respective bags behind them. Beca pulls her keys from her pocket, taking a moment longer than needed in order to try and prepare herself for the impossible pain that waited on the other side of the door.

"H-Hi." Iris immediately stands from her seat on the edge of her bed, her eyes dancing over Beca and her awkward stance. Beca grimaces as she stumbles into the room, deliberately keeping her back turned when Jesse makes it in behind her after getting around her heavy suitcase. The tension in the air is palpable and is already suffocating her, tugging on the scars of her heart uncomfortably as she tries to look as busy as possible.

"Beca," Jesse says in a way that makes her feel a little like a scolded child, and she waits a second before twisting around, letting herself have a few more seconds without knowing the image of the two of them together. Iris stares unfalteringly at Jesse and he stares unfalteringly at Beca, begging her with his eyes to be polite or something that resembles it.

"Congratulations," she says with a little too much malice to be deemed sincere.

"I know this is strange," Iris begins in her squeaky voice, and Beca has to try hard to resist the urge to punch her in the face, "but know I have zero intention of getting between you two. I know you guys are tight, and I'm not about to be that girl who ruins a great friendship."

Beca gives her a hard stare while Jesse smiles at her supportively. "She knows that," he assures Iris, though Beca doesn't, because its far too late for that to mean a thing.

"I'm gonna go," Beca blurts out, desperate to get out of the room and away from the heavy atmosphere that is still choking her.

Jesse frowns suspiciously from beside the door. "I thought practice started in an hour."

"I'm hungry," Beca states, though she is anything but, her appetite long gone since the first second of the year. She hasn't eaten properly in almost a week.

"I'll come with you," Jesse tries, but Beca's phone buzzes in her pocket as she firmly shakes her head, shooting him a dirty look because he knows full well she wants to be alone.

_From: Stacie 1:24pm_

_I have a Ben, Jerry or Jack desperate for some Beca loving so get that cute little butt over here._

Beca feels a gentle smile spread across her face, and she looks up to Jesse who's eyeing her still, grabbing her keys from her mattress. "No thanks, I'm already meeting some people."

Without a glance back, Beca strides out of the room as quickly as she can, closing the door with a little too much force. She tries to let the noise take away the image of them, burned into her brain despite the fact Jesse never approached Iris, but its ingrained in the worst way, haunting her and taunting her every time she closed her eyes.

So she rushes for the staircase at the end of the hallway, running to the floor above and trying to remember where Stacie's dorm is. Successfully finding it after a few wrong turns, she knocks and Stacie almost immediately throws open the door, her arms reaching out to her and engulfing her in a hug that gives Beca too good a view of her ample cleavage.

"I just heard today, I'm so sorry Beca," the brunette says gravely, releasing her almost as quickly as she had taken her. Beca flicks her hair away from her face and steps into the tastefully done, red-themed side of Stacie's dorm, falling straight onto the bed with her head in the pillows, not caring to look around at anything else. The intensity of the breif time spent in her dorm settles over her like a ton of bricks and Beca groans quietly, trying to stop the tears that seem to always be ready and waiting recently.

Stacie sits gently by her feet, patting her calf until Beca remembers who's room this is, quickly sitting back up like the sheets have just burnt her.

"How are you coping?" Stacie asks in concern, but Beca just shakes her head tiredly, not at all in the mood to discuss the topic she'd been unable to stop thinking about for five days. The move makes Stacie watch her strangely before she nods to herself and stretches an arm under her bed, struggling a minute until she's pulling out a bottle of rich, dark liquid with an all too familiar black label.

Beca has never been so happy so see alcohol in all her life.

Stacie tells her (far too graphic) tales of her trip back home as Beca very quickly drinks the vast majority of the bottle. She is glad that the girl opposite her is not asking questions, forcing her into discussing things she doesn't want to talk about, because why would she want to talk about _Jesse and Iris_ anyway?

"What kind of name is Iris?" Beca spits out in the middle of Stacie's story about her old high school boyfriend trying to get her back - or just get back in her pants, Beca had been too focused on drinking. Stacie accepts the dramatic change of topic in her stride, nodding enthusiastically as she takes a swig from the bottle, a half empty Ben & Jerrys tub clenched between her thighs.

"I don't even think that's an actual name, its just the name of a body part," Stacie scoffs. Beca makes a grabby motion towards her and Stacie holds up the two options, smirking at Beca's hesitance before she takes the ice cream and stuffs a large spoonful into her mouth.

"Exactly!" Beca manages around the melting deliciousness in her mouth, wincing when it hit a sensitive tooth. "Its like her parents tried to be original but just picked something _stupid_."

"Exactly!"

"And she's not even that interesting," Beca continues, scraping some more ice cream out the tub, "I mean, sure, she's pretty, in a classic, boring way that you see all the time."

"She's not even that pretty, I'm thinking that nose isn't real," Stacie says matter-of-factois, tapping her own nose with a delicately manicured finger.

"I wouldn't doubt that!" Beca holds out the ice cream and the girls switch. "And she's a sorority girl, like how cliche! And they're all just clones of each other, and yeah okay, so Iris has a good rack and nice legs and she's girly and bubbly and not afraid of... Of anything. She's flirty and exciting and smiley... And _blonde_... But that..." Beca's gets gradually more depressed, more quiet, until Stacie is prying the bottle out of her clenched fist and grabbing her face firmly, invading her personal space to prove a point.

"Beca, you are not one of those girls. I may not have known nones or long, but I know that _this_? Its not you. Beca Mitchell does not pine after a guy, Beca Mitchell doesn't put herself down to another girl's image. Beca Mitchell does not let one _stupid little bitch_ get in her way of her relationship with that beautiful piece of man candy." Stacie's eyes bore into her and she can't look away, the words morphing her mind with every syllable. "Beca Mitchell? She is a _badass_. She doesn't take shit from no one, especially girls with made up names. Do not let this bitch get to you; you are a hundred times more woman than her, and if Jesse doesn't see what a great thing he already has? Screw him! It just means you deserve better."

But Beca, despite the inspiring words, can feel herself crumbling, because she doesn't deserve better. She doesn't even care; she just wants _Jesse - _needs him - so much that it aches her to the core. Beca had been the only one standing in her way before, but now? Now Jesse has Iris. Jesse doesn't need her anymore.

Beca blearily looks at the almost empty bottle and melting tub on the duvet beside her. Its okay if Jesse doesn't need her, right? She has Ben, Jerry And Jack to fall back on.


	11. Friendiversary

**11 - FRIENDIVERSARY**

The world was playing a giant practical joke on her.

She was sure of it. It was the only explanation.

"You have _got_ to be shitting me."

Beca stared in horror at the clear costume bag Jesse was holding up above his head as he very seriously replied, "I'm definitely not shitting you."

It was pink and short and _tight_, she could tell without even having to put it anywhere close to her skin, and vastly inappropriate for a 16 year old – there were PVC panels and everything and _not a chance_. "There is no way I'm putting _that_ on me."

Jesse, who was finding the whole thing too amusing for his own good, smirked and said, "I think you'll look great in it."

"Dude," she warned, glaring a hundred thousand daggers at him, "_No_._ Never._"

His smirk faltered and he dropped his arm, his eyes pleading with her much like they had the previous weekend where he'd somehow talked her into it in the first place. "Never?"

"Never ever. Not even the tattoo is worth _that_," she said seriously, waving her hand at the costume bag before crossing her arms uncomfortably. Just the thought of squeezing herself into that thing gave her a headache.

"Okay, fine, I'll talk to the gang about the costumes." Jesse threw the bag over the back of a chair, slumping down beside her on the piano chair. "Have you at least been practicing the songs?"

Beca rolled her eyes. "Your setlist sucks, you know."

"Beca."

"Okay, yes, fine, I've… I've _glanced _at it," she admitted, shooting him a weak smile when he groaned unhappily and leant back on the closed piano.

"The fundraiser is in five days!" Jesse wiped a hand down his face before straightening up and reaching into his bag, pulling out a folder full of papers that looked suspiciously like sheet music and – "We're practising now, then."

"Nuh-uh, no way, not going to happen."

Jesse ignored the indignation in her tone as he pushed her elbows off the piano and opened the lid, pulling papers out of the folder to rest on the music stand attached to the sleek black painted wood of the baby grand. "You're performing in front of hundreds of people at the end of the week, you have to get used to singing in front of other people."

Beca balked. "_Hundreds?! _It's the _glee club_ – I thought there'd be a dozen people there, at most!"

He shrugged, testing a few of the keys absently. "Since _Glee_ aired there's been a lot more interest. It's really not that bad, I think you'll like it. Performing in front of a crowd gives you such a _buzz_."

"Getting high will give me a better buzz for half the embarrassment," she deadpanned, wishing she could be anywhere else right now but the dreary choir room. Why hadn't she accepted Jenny's offer to skip fifth period?!

"Beca," he begged softly, ignoring her sarcasm and turning to her when she stood up to leave, "Please. Do this for me. We need the funds to get to Regionals and I will owe you _so big_, you know I wouldn't ask if I weren't desperate. And hundreds isn't so bad, its not that different to a dozen..."

Beca felt her shoulders drop and she pouted to herself, her back to Jesse, hating that the pleading tone to his voice was so effective and that she'd let him persuade her so easily. "I don't want to," she whined childishly, turning back to him with heavy feet, and he seemed amused for a moment at how she was acting like a toddler who didn't get her own way before he jumped to his feet and grabbed her arms, pulling her into his chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked in alarm at the sudden loss of visibility, her nose squished against his collar bone and her arms trapped tightly to her side.

"I'm hugging you until you give in," he said like it was completely obvious. "It works for Cassie all the time."

"Who's Cassie again?"

"My sister." Jesse looked down when she repeatedly hit his side and quickly loosened her hold once he saw her struggling for oxygen. "Don't worry, you'll meet her this weekend."

"Your family will be there?!" she panicked, the foggy memory of his father coming back to her, but he just stroked the ends of her hair that hung down her back and tightened back his grip. "Jesse, come on, this isn't going to work, stop it."

The bell rung, signalling the end of lunch, and Beca mentally recounted her timetable. Shit, her next class was all the way over the other side.

"I'm going to be late."

Jesse hummed happily, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

"Jesse let me go!"

She felt his smile on the crown of her head. She wanted to punch him so hard.

"I can't be late for Fuller again, he'll skin me alive."

Still, she was ignored, until she managed a kick to his shin that made him release her on instinct. "_Ow_!"

"Good, you deserve it," she said coldly, snatching her bag from the floor.

"Wait!" he called after her. She carried on. "I can get you out of your class, all you have to do is stay!" Beca paused for just a moment, but it was enough to egg him on. "Fuller has a soft spot for the club, I can tell him you're with me and he'll be fine with you missing class."

Beca's head dropped so her chin tucked against her chest. Class or singing? Which was the lesser of two evils?

"I'll see you tomorrow." Beca walked out of the room, not looking back to see Jesse's disappointed face.

* * *

Apparently, her choice the day before had not deterred him.

When she got to Fuller's class the next day after ignoring Jesse's continuing whining all morning, her teacher just stared at her incredulously. "Miss Mitchell, I was informed you wouldn't be present today."

Beca wrinkled her nose as discreetly as possible against his hideous breath and stared blankly back at him and his patterned corduroy trousers. "Really?"

"Yes, by a certain Jesse Swanson. Was he incorrect about this?"

Beca looked passed his day-old shirt and out of the window, raising an eyebrow to herself as she realised what he'd done. "Idiot…"

"Excuse me?"

Beca's eyes flickered back to him and she scrambled it back. "Uh, yes. Yes, he's right. I must have forgotten."

She walked right back out, because she really had made the wrong decision yesterday. _Nothing _was worse than class with Mr Fuller. Even rehearsals for the Most Embarrassing And Ridiculous Thing Ever Show.

Not that she was going to let him off the hook so easily. "Are you trying to get me kicked out of school?" she accused when she stormed into the empty choir room, save a certain brown eyed boy who was leaning back in a chair, evidently quite proud of himself.

"Yes. I secretly can't stand having you here."

"_Jesse_," she said, exasperated, "You can't just pull me out of class when you feel like it."

"This is important!" he protested. "You now have _four _days to learn all the lyrics and the dance moves –"

"There's dance moves?!"

"- And make sure you're ready to charm the pants off all our potential investors so would you _please_ just get over here already so we can get started?"

Beca just glared at him from beside the door. "I'm so mad at you right now."

He grinned. "No you're not."

But when she continued to glare at him, he hopped up out of his seat to approach her. When he got within a few feet she held out a hand, letting her eyes relax again as she saw the mischievous glint in his eyes. "No, no more forced hugging. It's stupid and it doesn't work."

"Don't insult Code Honey Bee," he insisted, and when she eyed him strangely he explained, "I had to give it a name, now I know it's effective. I thought Code Honey Bee would be… _Punny_."

Beca rolled her eyes at the humoured look on his face at his own joke and brushed past him, lightly throwing her bag towards the stacked chairs as she approached the piano. "Come on, weirdo, let's get this over with."

* * *

"…_Thirteen, I got brand new eyes. Fourteen, everything's a surprise. Fifteen, not a day that I regret. Love is endless_," Beca finished singing, managing a grimace at the crowd surrounding the stage, until the allotted applause time had passed and she was able to hurry off stage, scowling at a waiting Jesse when she caught him staring at her in that way he'd been doing all week that made her feel uncomfortable.

"You were great," he enthused once he'd caught himself, putting a hand on her arm with a gentle and sincere smile. "Really, you rocked it."

Beca just let out a deep breath, glad it was over and she had time to get a drink and be away from the embarrassment of the stage. "Can we please go somewhere else that's not here?"

"Sure." He took her hand, surprising her enough with the gesture that she didn't have time to react before he was dragging her out away from the stage and into the crowd. "Let's go see my parents."

If Beca's eyes had been wide from the hand-holding – apparently they did that now, not that she was at all aware of such a decision being made – they were positively owlish at the casual mention of meeting his family. "Say what now?!"

But it was too late – Jesse was already thrusting her towards her a beaming couple milling on the edge of the room; a mother with gentle brown eyes like her son and a father with the mischievous grin (one she remembered far too well, and all she wanted was a hole to open up and allow the ground to swallow her whole). Beca stared at them in alarm, suddenly very aware of how much the red-heart-polka dot skirt left bare and how low cut the red blouse was – all things she had been physically forced into by the female members of the glee club, who were already angry enough at the new girl busting in and stealing the solos, never mind her complete refusal to wear their carefully made costumes.

"Hello, dear," the older woman said kindly. "You must be Beca! I'm Betty, Jesse's mom, and you've met my husband, Adam. I've heard so much about you!"

Beca cringed at her words, remembering back to the night of Jesse's birthday with a fierce blush, and hesitantly shook their hands, glancing at Jesse for help who smiled at her before catching on. "Uh, yeah, thanks for coming. How're we doing?"

"Fantastic!" Betty said happily.

"You guys are great," Adam agreed, eyes flickering between them. "How long before you go back up?"

Jesse shrugged. "About five minutes. Hey, where's Cas?"

Betty looked around. "She's around somewhere…"

Beca's leg was suddenly assaulted by a small child and Beca looked down in a panic at the happy face looking back at her. "Um, hello there."

Jesse laughed, leaning around her to swoop the remarkably similar looking child into his arms. "Beca, this is my little sister Cassie. Cas, this is Beca."

"Hi," the little girl giggled, her pink dress sparkling with sequins as she moved to cling to Jesse a little tighter.

"I didn't realise by sister you meant so…" Beca tried to get her head around the peculiar situation but seemed to be stuck on the 'incoherent' option. "How old is she?"

Jesse smirked. "She can talk, you know. And hear, too. Ask her yourself!"

Beca looked at him worriedly a moment longer before looking into the matching set of eyes Cassie owned, that were alight with excitement. "Uh, hello Cassie. How… How old are you?"

Cassie proudly splayed the fingers of one hand at her. "I'm five!"

Giving her a weak smile, she said, "Wow, that's great!"

Cassie's smile was so bright it seemed to light up the whole room. "You're pretty."

Her flush just intensified – probably as red as her shirt - as Jesse chuckled into his sister's hair to hide it badly from Beca, who pressed her hands against her hot cheeks and tried to be gracious in reply to the compliment. "You're far prettier, look at this lovely dress!"

"Wow, meeting the family, must be serious," Jenny said from behind them, and Jesse and Beca turned to see the group of friends smiling at them, greeting Jesse's family easily. Brad ruffled Cassie's hair as Beca glared at Jenny.

"We're not –"

"Yeah, whatever," Jenny waved off her protest, grinning at his parents instead. "Hey Mr and Mrs S."

"Hi Jenny, did Jesse return your sweater from last week? I've been pestering him for days."

"Sure did!" Jenny nodded but was promptly dragged away towards the snacks table by a now much shorter Cassie, leaving Jesse to grin at his friends and Beca to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"We just wanted to say goodbye," Phillipa said, "Damien and I have dinner plans."

"Oh! Of course!" Beca awkwardly accepted the hug Phillipa offered. "Have fun you guys!"

"Actually, we better be off too," Jesse told her. "We have to get back on stage."

Beca and Jesse said goodbye to his parents and Brad – who followed in Jenny's path to find her and Cassie – and they headed to the stage, climbing up with his hand somehow back in hers, which she cringed at a little because they were a little sweaty from the discomfort of the whole parent-meeting situation, but he didn't seem to mind, pulling her along to centre stage.

Jesse nodded towards the mic stand in front of her as the music began. "You ready?"

She pressed her lips together. "Nope."

But he just grinned back at her, swiftly diving into singing _Don't Go Breaking My Heart_, swinging his shoulders in time with the beat as she rolled her eyes, trying not to smile at how eagerly he broke into song. She returned the lyrics she was supposed to, swaying as she was instructed, trying not to laugh at how he moved around the stage, watching her as he tried to make her a little more enthusiastic.

"_Honey when you knocked on my door_," he sung to her, moving around her as she bit her lip.

"_I gave you my key._"

"_Ooh, nobody knows it_," they sung together as Jesse nudged her with his elbow, dropping to his knees to sing his line.

"_When I was down!_"

A genuine smile finally broke across her face as she returned, "_I was your clown_."

He jumped back to his feet victoriously as they sung their line together, and he sung alone, "_Right from the start…_"

He walked further across stage as she finished the verse with, "_I gave you my heart, ooh I gave you my heart_."

A warm blush spread across her face again as they continued, and she found herself unable to look at him for the rest of the track, his eyes, his family's and Brad's too heavy on her to be able to focus anywhere but the hundreds of shiny red hearts hanging from the ceiling.

* * *

"Can I see it yet?"

"Not until it's finished," she repeated, wincing as his hand gripped hers a little tighter.

The smell of ink tickled her nose as she sat next to Jesse, who was being defaced forever as punishment for putting her through the ordeal of the Valentine's fundraiser, no matter how much he insisted that she enjoyed herself and that she was actually pretty good. The guy was being a complete pansy about the whole thing, insisting that she hold his hand because "I'm sad to feel another piece of innocence slipping away thanks to you" (she knew it was because it hurt like hell though, which wasn't surprising given it was right at the top of his back, the needle repeatedly going over the bones of his spine. Not that she so much minded, because from where she was sitting she had a pretty good view of his bare chest that she hadn't realised was so… _manly_).

"I can't believe you wouldn't even let me know what the design was," he said dejectedly, wincing again against the insistent buzzing of the needles.

"You'll like it, I promise," she said, but she was laughing at the grimace on his face, so it took away from the sincerity of the promise enough that he groaned unhappily and glared at her.

"You're a terrible friend."

"Hey, don't go blaming me for this. You made the wager; deal with the consequences."

Jesse grumbled something into the head rest, and when she asked him to repeat it, he lifted his head to smile sweetly at her. "Nothing, dear." Beca just shook her head and looked back towards the wall that displayed hundreds of old designs, hissing quietly when Jesse squeezed her hand too tight. His apology lacked authenticity.

The time passed slowly, but eventually the tattoo artist finished with a dismissing grunt, and Jesse was released to take a look at his new artwork. He squinted into the mirror, trying to make out the design, so she sighed and snapped a picture on her phone, handing it to him for him to see properly.

The design was actually rather beautiful, a black star central to his neck that was completely filled apart from the spaces of still clean skin, shaped into a calligraphic set of her initials. She had had the option to pick something ridiculous, but had decided on something he wouldn't be ashamed of, that he could feel comfortable having ingrained into his skin. Plus, if they ever stopped being friends, she figured he could fill the spaces easily enough.

A twisting sensation in her gut stopped her thinking that way.

"Wow." Jesse stared intensely at the little screen. "That's actually… It's awesome."

Beca shrugged it off, turning her back to stop herself from staring at his bare chest. Instead, she listened to the artist gathering the gauze and tape to cover the damaged skin. "Yeah, well. You won't get off so lightly next time."

Jesse got himself fixed up and tugged on his light cotton shirt, handing the money to the man and walking out of the same little shop she had gotten inked at three weeks before. They walked down the street in a comfortable silence, reaching his car quickly and climbing in. Jesse took her bag and threw it in the backseat.

"Joel's?" he asked. She nodded, lost in her thoughts, emotions swirling unpleasantly in her chest that were so intense that she was surprised when the car pulled to a stop outside what had very quickly become their favourite place to hang out together.

"There they are!" Joel said happily when the bell tinkled above to announce their arrival. "My favourite customers!"

"Oh Joel, you flatterer," Jesse said teasingly. "Tell me. What's the appropriate ice cream for a guy who's just been subjected to the needle by his horrible friend?"

Beca shoved his shoulder. "You make it sound like you don't actually like the new addition!"

When Joel frowned, Jesse explained, "I lost a bet and had to get Beca's name tattooed onto my person."

Beca pulled out her phone and showed the picture. "He loves it really."

Joel looked between them with wide worried eyes. "Aren't you two a little young to be getting such things?"

Beca shrugged as Jesse nodded, taking back the phone and slipping it back in her pocket. "I found a don't-ask-don't-tell place for my first one a few weeks ago. It's cool, Jesse can hide it well enough and get it edited if he needs to."

"Why would I need to do that?" Jesse asked in confusion. She waved his question away and turned her attention back to Joel.

"Do your thing."

They settled into their usual table as Joel set about getting their pre-destined choices, and Beca could feel Jesse's gaze, warm against her cheek, as she stared out of the window into the quiet street. She could tell he was a little worried about her – she had been off all day, and he'd been trying too hard for her not to notice – but she didn't know how to put the _feeling _into words.

"Do you know what month it is at the moment?"

Beca startled out of her thoughts to look at him blankly, having no idea what his question was on about. "March?"

A smile lingered on his lips. "Not _just _March. A lot of stuff is tied to March."

Beca frowned, trying to figure out if she'd forgotten a birthday or something. "Nope," she said as she gave in, "I can't remember."

Joel placed their ice creams on the table and Beca looked down happily at her chocolate fudge filled pot. She stuffed a spoonful into her mouth as Jesse said, "Wow, I'm a little hurt, Bee, really. I can't believe you forgot our friendiversary."

Beca almost choked on her ice cream as she took a double take. "Our _what_?" she said feebly after she'd coughed for a good minute or two, Jesse leaning over the table to pat her back.

"Friendiversary." Nope, she thought, she didn't hear him wrong. "We met, on this day, one year ago." He proudly popped a spoonful of ice cream between his lips for effect as she gave him an odd look.

"How do you even _know _that?" she spluttered, secretly a little touched that he did know that and feeling bad that she _didn't_. But then the memory of that first meeting came back to her, and her expression clouded over as she realised what else she had forgotten. Beca shook the realisation that her dad had left a year ago to the day out of her head and thought instead about what he had been present in the park for. "Jesse…" she started sympathetically, but he smiled sadly and cut her off, placing a hand over hers to keep her quiet, or maybe because the churning in her stomach was leaking into her expression as she tried to suppress the feelings the whole conversation was bringing up.

"Don't; its fine. _I'm _fine. Are you fine?" She nodded, though he looked ill convinced. Jesse's smile grew as he focused on the point of him bringing it up. "The most important thing is that, well, look at us now! A year ago I scared you off the monkey bars and only knew your alcohol preference. Now, we go to school together and you crash cars and I lose bets resulting in under-age tattoos and we're best buds! Just like I predicted."

Beca raised an eyebrow at his phrasing but let it slide. "This whole… Thing" – she gestured between them with her spoon – "is evidently just a part of that dastardly plan I figured out straight away."

Jesse gave her a cheeky grin. "And yet it still worked!"

"You're such a weirdo." But when she saw his twinkling brown eyes and playful smile, she couldn't help shyly smiling back, and she held up her ice cream pot to him somewhat reluctantly. "Happy friendiversary."

"Happy friendiversary, Bee." Jesse tapped his pot against hers and they both shovelled a large spoonful out, Beca dissolving into laughter as a melting chunk of mint choc chip dripped down his chin.

* * *

Beca wasn't really sure how, but somehow the rest of the school year sped by all too quickly. Spring break was spent with her mother at some girly spa two states over because she insisted the time away would be "good for us, I promise you my darling". When she got back to school, teachers started assigning too many pieces of homework and her mother decided she did too little to help around the house, so many a day was spent slaving away studying or scrubbing the kitchen. Her weekends were a flurry of outings with Jesse and the gang or just Jesse, studying or lounging in the park or anything that regular teenagers did, really.

Which really caught Beca off guard once she'd noticed it, because she _was _a regular teenager now. A year ago, she'd felt like someone who had skipped those years; an outsider, a loner, and she hadn't really minded all that much until she met stupid-faced Jesse who had simultaneously ruined everything and put it back together into something that was happier, more beautiful, more _everything_. She was grateful, more than she could ever express, and the need to tell him so grew slowly, deep in her chest, making it difficult to breathe when he stared at her for a little too long.

All too soon, that final bell of the school year was ringing, and Beca was ducking under the flailing arms of cheering students and trying to squeeze her way through the student body which seemed to have doubled for the occasion, attempting to find the nearest exit so she could make her way over to the car park to meet the people she actually gave a damn about.

"Hey! Mitchie!" A booming voice called for her and she turned around, only to be swept up by two pairs of arms that half carried, half dragged her the short distance to the exit she hadn't been able to see. As soon as the fresh air hit her face, she was moving once again, thrown onto Freddy and Brad's shoulders much to her horror, a cry of indignation escaping her lips as she clung to their arms for dear life.

"What are you doing?! Put me down!" she yelled as they started bouncing her up and down, heading towards a thoroughly humoured Jesse and Phillipa who lent against his car as they watched.

"Never!" Brad cried.

"End of your first year, Mitchie! We have to go celebrate!" Freddy bounced her one more time before lowering her to the ground, where she stumbled right into Jesse's arms, who just chuckled and righted her as Phillipa squealed and threw herself at an approaching Damien. He pressed a kiss into her and Beca looked up at Jesse, who had a bright smile waiting for her.

"You made it," he told her happily, "Your first year at Townsend; finished."

Beca shrugged, leaning against his arm as she held back a yawn. "Technically, I've only been here half a year."

"Don't be that kinda person." Jesse shifted so his arm lay around her shoulders, and she welcomed the temporary perch. "It still counts. You made it through."

"I'm sure my mother will be thrilled."

A horn caught their attention, and Jenny lent out of her car window and bashed against the outside of her door. "It's summer, bitches! Let's go get wasted!" she yelled, and the group cheered as they split between the two cars.

Beca fiddled with the radio stations as Jesse drove, eventually giving in and setting up her iPod to play her own music through the cars' stereo system. As a mix began playing, Jesse tapped the beat out on the steering wheel, shooting her an appreciative look as Freddy lent towards them.

"This is great! Who is this?"

"Uh, it's mine," Beca answered awkwardly, and Freddy patted her shoulder proudly.

"I think she's taken over your role as the music prodigy of the group, bro," Freddy informed Jesse, who let go of the wheel with one hand to push him back into the rear seats as he laughed.

"Hey, I'm still awesome, okay? Beca's just better, is all."

"Jesse's composing is good!" Beca defended, twisting in her seat towards Freddy and Brad, who had his forehead pressed against the glass of the window behind her, his eyes peacefully closed. "All I do is change bits and pieces; Jesse _creates _music."

"Don't look down on your mixes like that, Bee. They're amazing, and some day real soon you'll have people creating mixes of _your _music." Beca bit her lip as she flushed, Jesse glancing at her for just a second but it was enough to see the sincerity, the pride, just how sure he was and his determination. "Just you wait. The whole world is going to be listening to your music."

Brad tiredly lifted his head and groaned loudly. "Oh my _god _would you two just cut the bullshit and get –"

But Freddy's firm punch to the shoulder cut him off, a look shared between the two she couldn't see properly, leaving Beca and Jesse to frown in confusion at his half-finished sentence as a tense silence settled over the car, soundtracked by the heavy beat of Beca's newest mix.

* * *

**I'm not supposed to be writing but shh, it's a secret, don't tell anyone! This chapter has a bit of a random ending, what with the time jump, but hopefully I will make it okay?**

**References: ****_Love Is Endless_**** - Mozella, ****_Don't Go Breaking My Heart _****- Elton John & Kiki Dee, ****_Glee_**** in general to my severe horror because why is it so prominent in this story... Probably a few subtle things but I'm too tired to look, honestly.**

**Okay, reviews are appreciated, but mostly, I want everyone's reaction to the news of ****_Pitch Perfect 2_**** and the MTV Movie Awards performance (fanning myself just at the memory of a certain Mr Astin) and the ****_Cups _****music video (further fanning at the memory of AK with the fan on) and all the amazing things that have been happening across the fandom in the past week! TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS MY PRETTIES. LET US FREAK OUT TOGETHER.**

**I love you all. Seriously. I would hug every damn one of you if it were possible to climb through the internet.**


	12. Daddy Issues

**Thank you for your patience guys, and I promise that very very soon, I will back on my feet and hopefully I'll be able to write again. Fingers crossed. (Writers block. Ugh).**

**This chapter is for everyone suffering under the weight of looming deadlines and those pesky exams. Stick with it, _stay positive_, and good luck!**

* * *

**12 – DADDY ISSUES**

**_Jesse Swanson _**_is now in a relationship with **Iris Campbell**_

It mocks her, there on her computer screen like it's not confirmation of the heartbreak she already feels. Somehow, seeing the actual sentence - knowing that others with see this exact same sentence - makes it hurt a whole more.

She deactivates her Facebook that day.

* * *

The all too familiar ringing brings her out of her far-away daze, and she looks around in astonishment for the source of the noise, squishing all the churning feelings in her gut back into their box marked _Deal With Later_. Locating the phone, she stretches her arm over her bed to her desk, scrambling with her fingertips to bring it closer until she can properly get a grip (Ha! Because she's doing that _so _well). She answers with a breathless, "Hello?"

The second she hears the _tut_, she instantly regrets not checking the Caller ID first. "So, we gonna talk about this?"

Beca sighs heavily into her phone as she falls back into her mattress, hair splaying across the pillows, glaring up at the ceiling. "Nice to speak to you, too, Jen - and no, we're _not_ going to talk about this. Would you please drop it?"

The voice in her ear makes an unfathomable noise before words begin spilling through the ear piece. "Come on Mitchie, you really think that's going to work on _me_? No, I'm sorry, but you are deluded if you think I'm going to just let you pretend that none of this is happening - that Ducky isn't banging the shit out of this slag that thinks she can just stroll right in on your territory and take your man –"

"Would you – Would you stop, please?" Beca begs, rubbing her temples tiredly. She already wishes she'd never answered the phone in the first place; she'd been ignoring calls from her Townsend friends all week, knowing why they were calling and that she didn't want to hear it. "Jesse is _not _"my man" and she has every right –"

"Don't give me that pitiful bullshit," Jen interrupts, her tone laced with anger, "Everyone's known since Ducky walked into school with a giant smile on his face the day after his grandmother's funeral that ain't nobody gonna be getting near that action. You essentially just peed all over the poor boy – and when you pranced into the cafeteria your first day and he was dragging you all over the place? Everyone in the whole damn state knew he was out of bounds."

Beca rolls her eyes in an attempt to not have to think about what her friend is implying. "Jen you are being ridiculous, Jesse and I are –"

"Dear Lord if you finish that sentence with 'just friends' I will personally come over there and slap you _so _hard." Beca pulls the phone away from her ear to groan in frustration, bringing it back only when she feels ready to speak calmly, but Jenny is talking again. "Why are you still trying so hard to deny this? If the whole group didn't know it anyway we damn sure knew from the way you ripped his head off Christmas Eve, and then the tension after you guys went to Canada…"

Beca feels a flush heating up her face as she sits up in bed. "Canada was… Difficult. He sprung it on me and I wasn't ready."

"Of course you weren't ready!" Jenny says indignantly. "Nobody's ever ready to hear the dude they love announcing they're dating someone else."

"I do not _love _him," she denies weakly, "Jesse is – is a friend. Nothing more. And he will always be _just _my friend. Iris doesn't change anything." It slashes at her in a way that makes her eyes tingle unpleasantly, her own realisation that her words are not just denial – they're _fact_ – shooting hot through her veins, all converging on her heart and _wow_, the actual, physical pain is burning her from the inside out.

Jenny sighs. "Who are you trying to convince here, me or you? Because personally I'm just bored of your blatant denial."

Pressing her lips together, Beca gets up from the bed with some difficulty as she says, "Goodbye, Jenny."

"Wait! Don't hang up!" The tinny pleading stops Beca just short of pressing the end call button, and Beca presses the phone back to her ear just as she hears, "Okay, I'll back off."

"Thank you." Beca walks over to her wardrobe, routing through for something appropriate for Bellas' rehearsals. Yes, that'll definitely help. Five minutes in the she-devil's presence will sort her out; show her what real pain is.

"But I would, in which case, like to talk to the part of Beca that will discuss him anyway." Jenny pauses as Beca stays silent. When she speaks again, her voice is softer. "What was his reason for not telling you?"

Leaning her forehead against the wardrobe door, she clenches her fist at her side. "He was worried how I would react."

"I already call bullshit."

"Yeah, well, so did I." Beca pushes off, spotting her reflection in the full length mirror. She looks like a wreck, with no make-up and three day old hair and her bones seem to be sticking out more than usual, all angles and sharp corners. The bags under her eyes are dark enough to be almost mistaken for her usual eyeliner.

And as she stares back at her reflection, a thought echoes through her, so alarming that she can't quite get it out. "Did you… Did any of you…"

"Know?" Jenny guesses. "_I_ sure didn't, but no one tells me anything because I'm such a blabber mouth. Everyone seemed genuinely surprised when he told us. If any of us were to guess who would know first, we'd all say you… But I think he kept it from everyone. The only other option is Freddy but, you know…"

"No," Beca says slowly, frowning in confusion when Jenny is uncharacteristically quiet for longer than five seconds, "Go on."

"Well, you know, their fight…" Beca's eyes bug in her reflection and Jenny continues, "You really didn't know?"

"When did this happen?!"

"Uh… like… oh! Christmas Eve. Just after you and Phillipa abandoned ship."

Beca splutters, "Why did none of you mention it?"

"Well it's not like any of us thought you didn't know. We're only just finding out about Jesse's apparent passion for keeping secrets, too."

She falls back onto her bed with her chosen garments scrunching up in her tight fist. "This is getting so out of hand… It's like… We never knew him." Beca feels that unwelcome swirling in her stomach again as Jenny stays silent. "What was the fight over?"

"What else?" says Jenny in a dry tone. "You."

* * *

News of the fight lingers on Beca's mind for the rest of the day, distracting her in rehearsals and causing her to receive more than a few "Aubrey disapproves" glares (that really should just be renamed "Aubrey disapproves of Beca", because they are normally reserved specifically for her). Why had they fought over her? Sure, she and Jesse had argued, and she understands that Freddy had probably just been mad that Jesse had upset her – Freddy, Damien and Brad are like brothers to her, fiercely protective of their friends in a way Beca knows only too well. She just doesn't understand why neither of them, nor the rest of the group, had never mentioned it.

So on her walk to the station the next day, she makes it her mission to find out the truth, because damnit she deserves it - which leads to her storming straight up to him as he stretches up to the highest shelf and quite literally _throwing_ the question at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jesse stares down at her in surprise for a few seconds, rubbing the area she had punched on his arm, and she can see the cogs whirring in his brain to process what's happening. He sighs heavily, slouching against the shelving unit. "Beca, we've been over this –"

"No," she interrupts, shaking her head. "Not about… Not about that. Freddy. You two… What, you argued? Fought? You didn't tell me, see, so I don't really know."

Jesse's eyes instantly flit away and he coughs nervously, trying to avoid the intensity with which she stares at him. "So. You heard about that."

"I shouldn't have _had_ to; I should have known already." She throws her hands up, stepping back cautiously. "Oh no, sorry; I forgot this is our thing now; we don't tell each other stuff anymore."

The accusation seems to rip right through him because he groans loudly into his hands. "Jeez, Bec, when are you going to get how _sorry _I am about this? You know I wish I could take the last few months back, but I _can't_. Keeping Iris from you was a bad idea, I get it okay - can you please stop holding this against me?"

"Jesse," she says forcefully, trying to keep her tone calm, "This is about Iris so stop bringing that up. I just want to know what happened with you and Freddy!"

"It's really not that big a deal," he says with a forced casualness as he walks back to the crate full of CDs. Beca follows him, dumping her bag under the desk and grabbing a random collection in case Luke spots them.

"In all the time I've known you, you've never fought with him – with anyone, really." Beca leans against the shelf to try and see his face better, but he's looking too intently at the case in his hand. She presses two fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at her. In a soft voice, she pleads, "Come on, Jesse. Talk to me. Please."

Jesse's eyes flicker over her face and then away. "There's nothing to talk about."

But she can see right through him, can see the difficulty in keeping his expression even, so she puts down the CDs in her hand and rolls her sleeves up before ducking under his arm and wrapping hers around his ribs.

"What are you doing?" he asks in alarm as she presses her cheek into his nerdy-as-always t-shirt.

"Initiating Code Honey Bee."

Beca feels him slowly relax against her, until he's dumping his own CDs and hugging her back, his cheek pressing against the top of her head. There's a stream of unspoken words between them, both too nervous to give them a voice in fear of ruining the fragile nature their friendship has taken. Instead, he murmurs into her hair, "Freddy and I will be fine. I'll give him a call tonight, if that makes you feel better."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

With every exhale, her hair shifts gently, so she can feel the subtle difference in his breathing when he seems to resign himself to talking about it. "I didn't tell you because… Well, we were fighting, and then it was Christmas and we were with your mom and _then_… Well, Canada... and I didn't want us to get weird again so soon and I just thought that we'd have fixed it at some point… Then New Years' happened…"

Beca just hums gently into his shirt, her eyes closed, her mind a little too focused on how she doesn't feel quite so hollow in his arms.

"Beca?" he whispers after a pause. She hums again. "I really am sorry."

Tilting her head back to see his face, she nods a little. In his expression, she sees all she needs to know, and it's enough. "I know."

"I was a real jerk," he continues, apparently unaware of the smile pulling at her mouth.

"You were."

"I'm a terrible friend."

She falters, staring at the mole on his neck as her smile dims. "I wouldn't say _that_…"

Jesse's fingers push into her back a little harder, and she can almost feel the confusion through their tightly pressed bodies, how he genuinely believes he has done her this great wrong. "No?"

Pressing her face into his shoulder, she shrugs and mumbles, "You're not a bad friend. You're a good one who did a sucky thing. But that doesn't make you bad." And it's true, he's not a terrible friend; he isn't resentful or jealous, he still knows how to act around her, and he isn't harbouring feelings that could change, well, everything. No, that's all on her.

* * *

"Amy, can you get to the point?" Beca interrupts the rather strange, fifteen minute rant on… Well, Beca's not sure; all she knows is she tuned out fourteen and a half minutes ago, when they had had to park their van ages away and speed walk towards the venue (thank God for cardio).

"My _point_," Amy stresses breathlessly, poofing her ponytail absently as they walk (and Amy struts) into the lobby of the regional collegiate acapella competition's venue, "is to put in at least a little bit more than minimal effort. Just because you don't like any of this doesn't mean you can get away with adequate." Beca stares at her in quiet disbelief. "We gotta blow them out the water like I did that time with my uncle when we managed to use just the air from our lungs to tip that giant –"

"Who says I don't want to be here?"

Stacie appears on her other side, giving her nails a last minute check over and pulling at the hem of her skirt. "Please Beca, we all know you didn't _choose _this ragtag bunch."

"We're pretty sure it's because of your dad," Cynthia Rose supplies with a cool shrug of her shoulders. "We heard he's a professor; that must suck."

"You have no idea," Beca says dryly, adding on, "How did you even know that?"

"I will never reveal my sources," Lily mumbles quietly from just in front.

"Girls," Aubrey calls impatiently, perfect blonde hair shining in the fluorescent lights, "Hurry up, we're going to be late!"

As they enter the main stage area and Amy and Stacie argue over who's to blame for being late – Amy needing the bathroom three times during the half hour drive, or Stacie demanding they drive twelve miles off course to regain phone signal – Beca's attention is immediately diverted to glancing around the room. She barely notes the surprisingly full audience or the bright stage lights or the group performing (though she does note the socks, and that's almost enough to throw her because _what_). Beca's focus is solely on the brown eyed boy staring at her with his signature cheeky grin, his arms crossed, the fingers of one hand crossing to silently wish her good luck.

She loops a hold around her wrist, subtly straightening her middle finger out of the fist.

The group on stage reaching the chorus seems to bring the Bellas to attention, because half start admiring the almost cute display of socks singing while half seem too confused by the gimmick to comment (and Aubrey, as always, is shooting down any form of opinion that isn't hers). All too soon, the Sockapella's are leaving and it's their turn, and yes, so Beca doesn't really like any of this "music with our mouths" thing, but that doesn't mean she's not a little… Nervous.

"Remember, 'ah' on three," Aubrey instructs as they put their hands together in the middle. Beca wonders if she knows that they all mess it up on purpose.

"Lets welcome the Barden Bellas!"

The skirt is too tight, the jacket too constricting, and the buttons are probably straining on her blouse because she feels like her entire body has grown twice its size. The soles of her heels slip under her feet as she half-stumbles towards the stage. There's a whistling behind her and she doesn't need to look to know who by, so she settles into her place with a shaky breath, pretending that her palms aren't sweaty and that it feels like the back of her neck is crying.

There's an awkward pause, and Beca's eyes move of their own accord to Jesse, milling in the back with his fellow maroon-clad Trebles, watching the stage intently. Smiling softly at her, he nods encouragingly, and she almost hates how it makes her feel a little better, but a smile cracks her mask when Bumper nudges Jesse harshly in the ribs for giving her a goofy thumbs up.

"1… 2… 3… 4…"

Beca fakes a lot of things during those two agonising minutes. She fakes being enthusiastic and excited about being involved in acapella; she fakes actually singing for a bit because she finds the side-ways glare Aubrey offers a little too amusing to pass up; she pretends to know the dance moves when halfway through, she blanks on what to do next; she pretends that she can stop herself from staring at Jesse for longer than 5 seconds at a time, and she pretends that each time she looks, he's not staring unwaveringly back at her, a secret smile curling at one corner of his mouth.

In fact, the only thing she doesn't fake is the bubble of laughter that escapes her when Amy's buttons bounce across the stage in time with the audience cheering.

(And, after, the shy smile when Jesse takes the stage and sings to her, just as he's always done. Because it's good to know that not everything has changed.)

* * *

It goes downhill _so _quickly.

The Bella's are discussing how to celebrate, with ideas of breaking into Cynthia Rose's vodka stash floating around or perhaps having some of girly sleepover at Chloe's, and Beca is actually pretty into it. The sense of camaraderie as the girls celebrate their win (second place, sure, but they still made it through) makes Beca feel like part of the gang, and she gets swept along in the excitement. After all, Stacie has proven to be actually okay, and she doesn't _not _get on with almost all of them. Where is the harm in one night with them?

Beca finds it funny at first, how the Treble's – fuelled by their ego-inflating win – are squaring up to this other group. She finds it even funnier when one decides to pick on Jesse, who is decidedly _not _a violent person (she's seen him capture flies as small as a grain of rice in a glass before, carefully carrying it back outside).

It should be funny.

But the whole thing gets quickly out of hand, and Jesse catches her eye for just half a second, but it's all she needs before she wades in and decided enough is enough – no one is picking a fight with her best friend and getting away with it.

From experience, Beca knows that Jesse is protective of her; apparently to a fault, because he argues and bargains and swears at the police officer that, as luck would have it, had been passing by when the trophy flew through the window. Even as the handcuffs click shut around her wrists after she calmly explains her revised version of events, Jesse tries to save her from being taken away. It's sweet, and makes a humbled smile linger for the three hours that she sits in holding.

"What're you in for?" a brunette mumbles from beside her, heavy Russian accent slurring, her head lolling as she tries to keep a level gaze on Beca.

She watches her cautiously, before shifting on the hard, uncomfortable bench and rubbing a thumb over the bug tattoo on her wrist. "Destruction of public property, you?"

The woman - who looks to be in her thirties but has these vulnerable eyes that makes Beca shift again – blinks slowly, her movements exaggerated as she does her best to keep staring at her. "You're smiling. Why are you smiling when you are in here?" Beca shrugs, but the woman has lost focus on her, eyeing another lady slumped against the wall as she sleeps.

"Are you okay?" Beca asks cautiously as the woman seems to blink hard, staring around them like she's only just noticed where she is.

"I am fine, are you?"

"Yes," she replies too quickly, and the glazed grey eyes rise again to watch her thoughtfully, greasy black hair lifelessly drooping around her face as she shakes her head sadly.

"You are a pretty girl," she mutters, "Why are building your life around him?"

Beca freezes half away through pulling at her cheap polyester skirt. "Excuse me?"

"Mitchell?" an officer calls loudly, and Beca jumps up instantly, still watching the woman who smiles lazily at the man on the other side of the bars.

"Good evening, Gary," she calls unclearly, lifting a heavy hand to attempt a wave, and the man nods his head in greeting with a gentle smile. "Do not forget, Mitchell," she says as Beca stumbles in shock towards the jail door, "Love hurts, but do not let that pain define you."

* * *

Beca Mitchell does not let anyone, bar a few extra special exceptions, see her cry.

Jesse is one of those exceptions_._

Was.

Was one of those exceptions.

The tears feel like they are actually burning the backs of her eyes, but Beca refuses to let him see her cry as the Russian lady's words ring in her ears.

No, Jesse will _not _hurt her again.

No fucking way will she shed one more tear over this boy.

"You called my dad?" she whispers brokenly, her voice cracking despite her resolve.

"Beca," he says softly, expression full of concern and guilt, his hand rising to gently touch her cheek, "Beca I'm so sorry. I didn't have any other choice."

"I can't believe you," she whispers, her voice rising as she repeats, "I can't _believe _you!"

"Beca, I'm sorry," he tries again as she turns her head away from his touch. "They – they were putting you handcuffs, Bee, and I didn't know what to do –"

"Not call my dad would have been a good starting point!" she hisses, forcing the tears away only to replace it with a sudden white hot anger that spreads through her. How _dare _he do something so… So _low_.

"Okay, I know, it was a dick move, I know, but Bec –" He pauses, glancing over her shoulder, and Beca lets just how hurt she is, how betrayed she feels, fuel the anger in the pit of her stomach.

"But what?" Beca uses her hand to gesture him on, but he keeps his mouth shut, concern furrowing his brow. "But you were – what – trying to help? To protect me?"

She means it spitefully, to throw everything back in his face because she feels so numb by what he's done when he knows, better than anyone, _not to do this_… But Jesse grasps her arms before she can continue, a look in his eyes that makes her feel so very small. "Yes," he insists. "Yes, I was trying to help. And I am sorry, Beca, I am _so _sorry, but I didn't know what else to do." A ghost of a smile whispers across his face. "It was either this or selling off all my DVDs, and, well, you're not quite worth that."

The way his gaze bores into her, coupled with the firm grip he has on her, his fingertips pressing into her skin, is enough that she feels the second that she just _lets go_, too tired with fighting and the resisting to do anything more but tear away from him and just accept the final blow; her father's furious scolding. It's tough, and the strikes crack her exhausted armour even further, but as her father rips her dream away from her, Jesse's hands slips into hers, and maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to forgive him anyway.

* * *

The drive is tense and silent, full of three years' worth of father-daughter issues and unresolved _stuff _between her and Jesse. But his hands stays wrapped around hers, and though she doesn't look, she feels his concerned side glances the whole journey back to campus.

When the car pulls up outside her building, Beca hops straight out and doesn't look back.

"Hey, Bec," Jesse calls hesitantly as he races to catch her up. "Beca, wait, stop."

"I'm not talking about it," she replies to his unspoken sentence, arms wrapped around her chest as she power walks towards the main door.

"That's fine, I just –" He pulls on her arm to turn her around and stop her walking, and she lets him, staring down at her scuffed heels miserably. "I just want to know you'll be okay."

"I…" Beca sighs, running her fingers through her limp hair before looking up at him with an attempt at a smile. "I'm really tired, I just want to go to bed. Can we talk about anything else but this tomorrow?"

Jesse watches her for a long time before agreeing, and they begin to walk again. His arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her close to him in a way that he must know comforts her so strangely but so effortlessly. "Let's get you to bed," he says as they walk, and she rests her cheek on his shoulder as the exhaustion starts to weigh down her bones.

Too tired to deal with the tangle of betrayal and confusion and anger that wraps around her insides, Beca lets herself pretend, just for a moment, that this is senior year of high school, and things are as easy as they should be.

Reaching her room takes longer than it should but they get there, and Jesse pulls her key out of her coat pocket before she has a chance to try herself. The door opens without needing to unlock it, and Beca is pleasantly surprised to find none other than the Bella's camped out on and around her bed, turning to her the second she and Jesse slump through the door.

"Huh."

Cynthia Rose covers up Aubrey's too-assuming reaction by saying a happy "Hey!" as Amy grins at her sheepishly.

"Hey, Shawshank! How was prison?" Amy's eyes widen. "Did they spray you with a hose?"

"Did you get yourself a bitch?"

There's something about the presence of nine girls that she has shown virtually no kindness or compassion towards that strikes something in her – something she hasn't felt in a long time – that makes her do two things.

First – "Jesse," she whispers because it's all she's capable of, "Go, please."

Second – Once he's slunk back out with a parting squeeze of her hand, she looks carefully at each face, absorbing the hesitance and the confusion and the concern, before taking another step, and another… Until she's at her desk, and she's pulling out the little pile of DVD's Jesse keeps tucked under there, and she holds one up and asks, "Anyone up for watching a movie?"


	13. Summer Loving

**So my harddrive is currently in the hands of a tech wizard (if you don't know what I'm talking about, info is on my profile as well as my progress with all of my writing) but I've pulled this together! Hopefully it's at least a little bit enough to make up for my extended absences. Love to everyone! Hope you're all doing good and enjoying your summer. And if you're not for whatever reason then... Well, sorry.**

* * *

**13 - SUMMER LOVING**

Upon reaching the nearest beach, they exited the cars to the sound of waves crashing and Damien whooping with joy. Beca helped the boys unload the car while Jenny, too excited for the end of the year, threw abandon to the wind as well as her clothes – within thirty seconds she had squealed and run full pelt toward the sea, stripping down to her underwear until her body collided with an incoming wave.

They laughed as Freddy dropped everything back into the car, discarding his shirt and racing after her. Minutes later and three more bodies had joined them, splashing around and diving under waves in a childish frenzy. Jesse lent against his car, arms folded over his chest as he watched them. Beca smirked as Brad dunked Damien's head, the latter gasping for breath as he bobbed back up and proceeded to engage him in a friendly game of water wrestling.

"End of the year," she muttered to herself, "Look at me now."

The sun beat down on them and she sighed peacefully, falling a little to the side so her head rested on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her and she tucked her hair behind her ear as the wind picked it up.

Moments slipped by until Beca felt an ache in her shoulder. She stepped away to stretch her arms, eyes on the clear blue sky. Jesse shut the last remaining door of the car and Beca shook off the swirling in her belly, glancing back at the water to see Phillipa beckoning them. She spent twenty seconds considering it before encouraging herself to see it through.

Turning back to him, she stared right at him as she tugged her jacket off and then her button down, leaving just a thin cotton camisole. Her clothes created a small pile by the back wheel of the car. Jesse lifted his shirt and when his face appeared again, there was a cheeky grin aimed right at her. Eyes narrowing, she unbuttoned her jeans and stepped out, ignoring the self-conscious itch on the back of her neck when Jesse rose to the challenge. Their clothes gone, she took a deep breath to keep her eyes trained on his (and what that a hint of a struggle there in his expression? Surely not) and bit her lip when they slipped down for a beat of a second.

She knew about half a second before it happened.

Beca was in his arms so quickly that she let out a gasp of surprise, yet Jesse kept running towards the waves and their cheering friends, her toe nails digging into his thigh as she let out an indignant cry at being so cruelly manhandled. Sea spray licked at the back of her knees; the salty water scratched between her toes. Someone started chanting, "Dunk her! Dunk her! Dunk her!"

Accepting her fate, she breathed in and clamped her eyes shut.

The water was colder than she expected, so cold that the air rushed out of her lungs as she reflexively balked at the sudden shift in temperature. Air bubbled to the surface and she considered opening her eyes before remembering how much it would sting. She reached out and what felt like Jenny's anklet grazed the side of her finger. Something warm reached out from underneath her, and she grasped at what she recognised as a hand, aiming herself up to the surface. Bursting up to the air and the noise of her friends laughing, she opened her eyes to see the hand belonged to Freddy, who let it go and patted her back as she coughed up salt water. She ran her fingers through her hair to get it away from her face, and glanced at the faces, a smile erupting as she saw their happiness.

"School's out, bitches!"

The group cheered again, bouncing around in the water and passionately singing Alice Cooper as out of tune as they could manage.

"Hey," she asked in confusion as she looked around, "Where's Jesse?"

"I don't kn –"

But it was all she heard before something yanked at her foot, and she was pulled back under. Arms wrapped around her frame and she was quickly breaking through the surface before she had time to register what had happened. Glaring at Jesse, he just chuckled at her stormy expression, his long hair falling over his eyebrows. An arm escaped the hold to high five Brad and she took the opportunity to bounce off his own knees so she was high up enough, using her full weight to dunk him back down.

The group played in the water until the chill turned Phillipa's lips blue. The girls balanced precariously on the boy's shoulders and Brad and Freddy fetched a volleyball from the car for them to toss around. Hours passed them by blissfully, until Phillipa let out one shiver and raised her hands in defeat, Damien's body heat no longer enough to warrant staying with the rest of them. Slowly, they began to return to shore one by one, until only Jenny and Jesse remained with her, floating on the water top and letting the waves control their direction.

"Well, this is great and all," she heard Jenny say from beside her, returning sharply to a vertical position when she pinched her knee, "But I think I'm going to have a hunt around for that half pack of sweets I dropped under the seats of Jesse's car."

Jesse frowned as Beca said, "Didn't you do that like, four months ago?"

"So?"

Jenny swum away and Beca turned to Jesse, an unusually shy smile crossing her face. His expressive eyes shone playfully at her. She wondered if they too should be heading back.

"Beca?" Jesse asked quietly as the water lapped around their chests.

"Yeah?"

He paused and she glanced up to see him staring out at the seemingly endless horizon, a pensive expression on his face. She thought she might be able to read his thoughts as they crossed behind his eyes. "I'm really glad you crashed that car."

The hidden connotations of his confession tickled at her heart. She wondered if he was as thankful as she was.

Cheeks dusted pink, she whispered, "Stroke of luck I guess."

Jesse stared and she became extremely aware of the small distance between them. She couldn't quite believe that a year ago they had been mere acquaintances; two strangers who happened to meet under a half moon. Now, somehow, her world seemed to revolve around him. He was exactly what she needed; her own personal ray of sunshine. And there were her friends on the sand, arranging blankets and food, probably aware of the private moment happening twenty feet away. If Jesse was her sunlight, then they were her oxygen, breathing new life into her that she didn't recognise but loved all the same. Yes, her world had changed and it was scary, but there wasn't an atom of her existence that regretted it.

Something touched her waist, and she glanced down in surprise to see his fingers splayed across her skin through the rippling water. His gaze was heavy and she felt the air leave the pocket of the Earth they floated in. Eyes traced up his arm, along his shoulder, reaching his own eyes at an impossibly slow pace. What was that lingering behind his calm façade? Fear? Apprehension? Nerves?

She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Jesse."

Had time stopped, or was that just her heart?

"I…" Her hand fell with a feather-light touch to his arm. Breathing around the knot in her stomach was becoming a serious issue. "You look cold. We should… We should go back to shore."

The tension did not break; it only grew stronger as he seemed to come closer. "I'm not cold."

Every hair on her body was standing on end. _This can't be happening._ "I'm hungry."

Beca tore herself away before she could second guess herself, wading through the water to the shore. Jenny's frown was visible even from the generous distance between them. She let her body sink, the cool water surrounding her and failing to wash away the way her skin tingled or her hands shook.

"Mitchie, you okay?" Freddy asked in concern once she stepped on dry land, scrapping her wet hair back and squeezing the water out.

"Yeah," she replied breathlessly, a smiling flickering across her face. Beca walked passed them with her eyes on the sand sticking to her wet feet, only hearing Jesse's return when his voice floated over with the wind. She changed quickly behind his car, tying her hair up and letting herself coax her mind back to its usual state.

Ready to face the world again some minutes later, Beca stepped lightly around the front of the car to find Phillipa waiting anxiously. One look and the blonde pulled her into a hug that Beca rigidly accepted, patting the girl's back as Phillipa said, "You look like you could do with a hug."

"I really don't." Beca pulled away the best she could, offering a (hopefully) convincing smile to try and quell the obvious unease in her friend's expression.

Phillipa eyed her sceptically. "Okay, if you're sure. Let's go get some food in you." Arm in arm, they walked back towards the group of friends surrounding a large picnic basket. Her stomach rumbled. _Yes_, she thought to assure herself, _you were just hungry all that time. Don't overthink it. _She took a deep shaky breath. _Stop overthinking it._

* * *

The summer breeze was warm against her skin, ruffling the fine hairs on her arm as she lay back on the picnic blanket, sun beating against her closed eyelids. It smelt of freshly cut grass and daisies, and the taste of the wine Phillipa had supplied lingered on her tongue. The leaves ruffled in the trees and she could hear children some distance away, squealing happily as they raced for the slide in the playground nearby.

"Does anyone want a top up?" The clink of glass and Beca sat up on her elbows to offer up own empty glass, smiling at Freddy as he poured for her. Something moved in her hair and she glanced around to see Jenny securing a daisy chain around her head. The redhead's hair looked on fire in the bright light of the midday sun, her teeth glinting as she grinned.

"Don't you look swell, Mitchie!" Several faces turned towards her as she blushed. She was sure the girly touch now added to her hair mismatched with her deep purple vest top and black shorts. She liked it, though. She'd never quite mastered the fine art of making daisy chains.

"Just be glad I'm too sleepy to rip this thing out," Beca said instead, grimacing as a petal tickled her forehead.

"How can you be sleepy?" Jesse queried from beside her. "You only got up an hour ago."

"Actually," she paused, picking up his phone from his jeans pocket to check the time, "I've been up 48 minutes."

"That's shameful."

She shrugged, closing her eyes and shifting to lay her head in his lap. "Whatever you say, Ducky."

"You two are adorable," Brad crooned, and she opened one eye to give him an apprehensive look. Jesse just laughed above her.

"Just because no self-respecting female will be within thirty feet of you."

Phillipa shifted to the other side of Damien and they laughed as Brad threw a grape at Jesse's forehead. It fell onto her neck, and she picked it up and popped it in her mouth.

Freddy sighed, stretching out his legs as Jenny lay on her stomach, already progressing well with another daisy chain. "So," she started absently, "what are everyone's plans for after high school?"

Damien chuckled. "We've got a whole year left still, y'know."

"Yes, but this time next year we'll have all graduated. Don't you wanna know where everyone is planning on doing?" she countered, and the blanket occupants grew quiet for a moment, contemplating the question many had never thought to ask themselves.

"What do _you _plan on doing, Jen?" Phillipa asked.

"I'm thinking of studying fashion, you know, becoming the next Vivienne Westwood or Jean Paul Gaultier." Jenny glanced up as Beca opened her eyes in interest. The idea was strange but it oddly suited her.

"I've always wanted to be a doctor, but I've been talking to my parents about going into pharmaceuticals." Phillipa shrugged a shoulder when they looked at her in surprise.

"It would appear we have the future curer of cancer in our mists!" Jesse declared with a gentle smile. "That's really great."

"Maybe not cancer," she said as she flushed even more, "Probably just the common cold."

"Well who can beat that?" Jenny joked, shuffling across the blanket to place the newest daisy chain around Brad's bushy hair.

Beca held up her hand hesitantly. "I don't know if mine beats _that_, but I'm moving to LA."

Everyone looked at her in interest and she reached for more grapes. "Nice," Freddy commented.

"Just one more year and I finally get to be where I'm supposed to be." Her smile was wide and genuine, lighting up as she thought of her dream almost within her grasp.

"Well speaking of moving, I've got some money saved up from working at the garage." Brad grinned and picked at a brownie slice. "Gonna take my butt travelling!"

"Travelling? Really?" Damien asked. "Don't you want to go to college or something?"

Brad shook his head, the daisy chain falling down one side of his head. "You don't have to go to college to get somewhere, and it's not really for me. Besides, I don't have a strict plan for where I want my life to go. Why waste that much money on college when I have no idea where to go with it?"

"I think it's a good idea," Phillipa said, leaning into her boyfriend a little more as she smiled encouragingly. "Travelling gives you culture and perspective. You'll get to have a load of new experiences."

"Plus I'll get to meet so many more women," he said smugly, and this time Jesse tossed the grape at him by snatching it out of Beca's hand. She protested but laughed as it burst when it hit his arm, grape seeds dripping into the curve of his elbow.

"What about you, Duckfuck?" Brad asked as he wiped it off with a spare napkin. "What do you planning on doing if we all graduate?" They gave him a look that said 'If? Seriously?' and he put his hands up. "What? There's no guarantee that we'll all get through senior year!"

"Afraid I'm another one off to college. Gotta major in something musical to give me a step up on the job market."

Beca sat up, gawking up at him warily. "Something musical?"

"Yes," he said slowly, "Why do you seem so surprised?"

"I'm not, I just…" Beca saw the other pairs of eyes watching her, so she tried to continue as nonchalantly as she could. "What kind of places are you thinking?"

"I don't know, I've got a couple of good options that I think I can get in to if I keep my grades up next year. California State is supposed to be good, and we've got UNC here. Mom is pushing Baylor because when she visits she can stay with family, but Dad thinks Barden would be good since it's not ages away –"

"Not Barden," she interrupted, an edge of icy intensity to her voice that made him stop in his tracks and ponder her demeanour.

"Okay." Jesse cleared his throat. "Why not?"

"It… I've not heard good things about it."

"Really?" Damien said. "That's weird, I've heard it's a great school."

"No, it's not," she snapped. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Beca curled her legs under her and grabbed a handful of popcorn, staring at her lap. "Just not Barden, okay?"

Jesse was quiet, as were the rest of her friends, her gaze on a fraying hem. Eventually his hand skimmed the side of hers and he mumbled a quick promise. "Okay."

* * *

"Hey, Bee!" Jesse jogged to catch her up after they left Jenny's house a month into summer, and she smiled as he approached, letting him take her hand and breathing in the late evening air. "So," he began, falling into step with her as they meandered up the road, "I've been thinking."

"That's never a good thing." He gave her a side glace and she bit her lip, gesturing for him to continue.

"There's this new movie – critics are going crazy over it, and – Maybe, I don't know; do you fancy it? I was thinking this weekend."

"Oh," Beca said regretfully, scratching her head as she realised she hadn't mentioned it. This was going to be an awkward conversation. "I can't."

"You can't?" he repeated, confused. "What, you have plans? With other people?" He gasped dramatically, grabbing her arm. "You have other friends?"

Waving him off, she tried to show any form of amusement but ultimately failed. "Actually, it's a family thing." Jesse slowed and she shrugged like it wasn't half as big a deal as it actually was. "My dad's wedding."

She saw the disbelief on his face, wincing as his eyes bugged and he pulled her to a stop. "Your –What?!"

Sighing, she swung their hands lazily as she looked at the street light on the other side of the road. "You're not really going to make me say it again, are you?"

"No, just – But Bec that's – What?" Jesse continued to stare at her and she moved her weight from one foot to the other restlessly.

"He's getting remarried and I have no option but to sit and watch and mingle with all of their new friends," she said bitterly, hair whipping in the wind.

"Crap Beca… That sucks."

Shrugging again, she just said, "Yeah well, not much I can do."

His eyes flickered across her face and she recoiled from his scrutiny, struggling to think of a way out of the conversation she had no interest in continuing. "You know…" Jesse faltered, thumb running over her knuckles. "If you wanted me to, I could come with you."

"What?" she asked stupidly. Shaking her head she rushed to carry on, "Oh, no, Jesse, you really don't –"

"I want to though." He tilted her head up and she saw the quick of his mouth, how he was already set on the idea and she really had no other option. It was one of things she liked about him – his devotion to his friends, his insistence to be there no matter what – and yet in that moment she hated it, because she knew any argument was futile and he was going to have to join her. "You could do with the company, like you said. And I'll probably keep you a little more sane. Please, Beca, let me do this."

She sighed, closing her eyes as she muttered an unwilling, "Fine." He pulled her into a hug and she held him back, hoping the move was enough to show how much she appreciated it.

So. The person closest to what she would call a best friend was going to meet her runaway father. What could possibly be weird about that?

(Everything. Absolutely everything.)


	14. The Game Changer

**So my harddrive is screwed. Woopee for me; I now have to start everything all over again.**

**On a better note, Pitch Perfect has been nominated 9 times for a Teen Choice Award! AND "Cups" has been nominated for something like best song by a female artist! Signing up to vote is free and you can do it every day so GO VOTE. We're up against some big names but if we all band together we might have a shot so WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!**

* * *

**14 - THE GAME CHANGER**

"Those assholes!" Aubrey shrieks, her foot stamping the ground.

"Holy shit."

"How did they even get it that high?"

"Is that our sheet music?"

"What is this position?"

"It's called a flip reverse -"

"We don't really want to know, Stacie."

Chloe is still on the floor, rubbing her tail bone with an angry pout. Strewn around them lies their sheet music, covered in graffiti and crude images. Screenshots of Aubrey's Pukegate litter every surface and wall, even the ceiling, which is a good fifteen feet above them. The board with Aubrey's 'path to success' is gone, and instead in untidy writing is scrawled words like, _IS THIS BURNING AN ETERNAL SUCK, TURN THE BEAT AROUND AND GIVE UP, IS ENOUGH ENOUGH? YES_.

"Most of these aren't even good," Beca mutters as she examines the mediocre threats. Glancing back at the rest of group and a green-tinged Aubrey, she sees her attempt to make light of the situation has gone over their heads.

"Those bastards!" Chloe fumes, getting to her feet to rub her friend's back. "We a were supposed to have called a truce on this!"

"A truce?" Jessica asks.

Chloe sighs. "We used to prank each other all the time. Try and psych each other out. But it got dangerous a few years back and we agreed to stop."

Stacie walks forward, spinning to face everyone with a cunning smirk, her arms crossed under her ample chest. "Well, since they broke it, it's a good thing I have the perfect way to get them back."

* * *

"Oh my god," she mutters to herself as she pushes away from her desk, "what's happening to me?"

The result of three hours spent mixing songs together stares back at her from her computer screen. Bec shakes her head, trying to get rid of the piece of brain Aubrey has obviously transplanted into her that is leading her to look at the music in a new way - How could this song be arranged for acapella? Stacie would be great for the lead vocals, but who would carry the beat? Could she put this song into it without it being too obvious a transition? - but she can't stop thinking of how the voices could blend, how much better they could be if Aubrey could just get her head out of her ass and -

"Hey, Shawshank!" Amy bursts through the door with a giant smile on her face, an arm wrapped around a giant bag of onion rings.

Beca quickly minimises the screen. "Oh hey, Amy, sure, come on in..."

Falling heavily onto Beca's bed, Amy stuffs four onion rings into her mouth, crumbs spraying over her comforter. "What's going on?"

Beca glances around, looking at her side of the room for something to present as a viable option. "Oh, um, you know..." A textbook she's pretty sure hasn't even been opened yet sits under a pile of doodle-covered notes. "Studying! I was studying."

Amy scoffs. "Yeah, because college is meant for studying."

Pressing her lips together, she waits for her friend to get to get to the point. Amy throws a handful of onion rings into the air, failing to catch any. They land instead all over her bed, and Amy picks one out of her impressive cleavage, tossing it into her mouth.

"So any plans tonight?" she asks around the food.

"Uh..."

"Good, because we're going to this party and I need you as my wingman." Amy tilts the bag towards her with a look that suggests she doesn't really want Beca to take any. She shakes her head, and Amy chews on another handful. As an afterthought she adds, "Aubrey won't be there."

Beca picks up her phone from her desk and sees the lack of messages. She looks at her computer, the picture of her Townsend friends pulling goofy faces at her. What does she have to lose?

"Okay, sure."

* * *

Eighty three minutes later and she's forgotten why she said yes.

Amy has already left her behind in favour of a member of the swim team; Lily is curled into the tiny gap between the wall and the arm of the sofa; Stacie is draping herself over two guys at once and she's pretty sure Cynthia Rose and Denise have suspiciously disappeared into the same bedroom of whoever's house this is. She looks around, boredom slumping her against the cupboard full of delicate china plates. Chloe is barely visible around the tall body of her "just a friend" Tom from the showers. She wonders how appropriate it is to leave a party after only fifteen minutes of attendance.

"Hey there, beautiful." A large body that smells too much like fresh sweat falls into the space beside her, a leering smirk on his face. The plates in the cabinet rattle. Beca cringes and rubs her nose.

"Go away."

"Come on, baby," he drawls, "don't be that way."

"You're disgusting." She pushes off the cabinet, walking across the room towards the front door. The beat of the music pounds in her chest, but rather than comfort her like it always used to, it makes her anxious. Her heart rate picks up, and she ditches her red cup and ducks under someone's arm until she's free of the house, the cool March air hitting her with force.

She walks leisurely back towards campus, hands stuffed into pockets. Thoughts swirl around her head, about Jesse and Freddy and Jenny, about her mother alone in their house, her father closer than he's been in two years. She thinks about the Bellas, about Aubrey and Stacie. She wonders when her life became such a tangle of drama.

"Hey, Becky!"

Looking over her shoulder, she is surprised to see that she's already on campus by the radio station. Luke is locking the doors, smiling at her as she pauses on the path. He waves and puts the keys in his pocket, jogging until he reaches her.

"Hey, I'm glad I caught you."

"Why?" she asks, starting to walk again with him in step beside her.

"I wanted to talk to you." Quiet falls for a moment. His leather jacket squeaks and she stares down at her hands, biting her lip. "So I listened to some of your tracks."

She looks up in surprise. "You did?"

"Yeah, and I have to say Becky, they're really great." He's smiling at her, and she bites harder into her lip, turning her gaze back to the path in front of them.

"Thanks."

"I've been thinking," he starts, pausing again for a moment before ploughing on, "You and Jesse aren't, like, a thing, so -"

"No," she interrupts, trying to reel in the bitterness. "No we're not."

"So I can ask you out, then?"

Beca's eyebrows raise in surprise as she stops to look up at Luke. "You... You want to ask me out?"

"Well, yeah." Luke smiles at her, a dimple appearing in one cheek. Beca blushes. She's never been asked out before and she finds it oddly endearing.

"Wow." Looking down at her hands, she contemplates it. Luke is a senior, and she's a freshman! Why would he be interested in her? No one has particularly expressed an - But no, because she remembers how Jesse had confessed to warning people away, and though back then she had found the move sweet, now she is full of anger - how dare he control her life that way? How was it at all within his right to do that to her?

"Okay," slips out before she can think any more, and with more conviction, she says, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Luke's grin envelopes his face. "Great." Beca looks up at her building and Luke looks too, nodding in understanding. "How's Friday night? Say 7?"

Beca smiles, picking at the chipped nail polish on her thumb. "Sounds good to me."

"Great." Luke hesitates before leaning towards her, and his lips are warm on her cheek for a sweet few seconds. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Beca watches him until the night takes him away, and she laughs quietly to herself as she walks into her building. She has a date. Beca Mitchell has a date. With a British senior, no less!

Her phone is out of her pocket before she's even up the stairs. "Hey, Jen? Guess what..."

* * *

The Bellas hide in the bushes outside, breathless laughter covered by blue tinged hands.

"Stacie, you are an actual genius," Cynthia whispers, and Stacie winks at her, a smug smile lighting up her features.

It takes a good half hour, but the wait is worth it - Bumper's shrill scream comes first, followed by a collective yell at too high a pitch. Bumper crashes through the front door of the Treble house, swimming trunks hiding only a small amount of his dignity. Ah is skin is dyed blue up to his shoulders, oh is face a deep shade of red as he whirls around on the porch.

Donald appears next, blue to his elbows, a flowery shower cap covering his hair. Then Kolio, Hat, Unicycle - all dyed the victorious shade of deep blue.

The Bellas fall on the floor with laughter, and Jessica happily takes as many pictures as possible on her fancy camera for the university newspaper.

Bumper's face turns purple as Jesse approaches the house and trips over his own feet in shock at the sight before him.

_"BELLA'S!"_

* * *

Friday afternoon, Beca hums Turn The Beat Around to herself as she stacks the last of her box. A smile lingers on her face, and she's been ignoring the inquisitive looks Jesse has been throwing her the whole shift. He's stopped working, standing by her box with his arms crossed, and she walks between the shelves without really working. She wonders if she should tell him. She wonders if he'll care.

Around another corner, and she squeaks in surprise when Jesse is standing there, staring down at her. She coughs and regains her composure, brushing past him to her box.

"Oh come on, Bee, this is killing me!" he protests, following her, his feet dragging.

"What is?" she asks innocently.

"Whatever you're keeping secret!" Jesse sighs when she just smiles and picks up more CDs, glancing at the artist and heading towards the right section. "Is it the Bellas? Do you have some kind of secret weapon for the semis?"

Beca stays quiet, smirking when Jesse groans.

Her phone rings in her pocket, and before she can grab it Jesse is pulling it out of her back pocket and holding it out of her reach, looking at the Caller ID.

"Jesse!" she barks. "Give that back!"

"Phillipa, huh?" He presses the green button and grins at her when she tries to jump up and snatch it back. "Are you two planning something?"

"Hello?" Phillipa's voice floats from the phone, and Beca picks up on the pitch of her voice instantly, her mildly annoyed smile falling.

"Jesse," she warns. He's still holding it up, unaware. "Jesse give me the phone. This is serious."

"Beca can't come to the phone right now!" Jesse says loudly, laughing until Beca's anxious expression registers.

"She's crying, you idiot," she whisper-yells, and Jesse takes a second to realise it before quickly passing the phone back. Beca presses it to her ear, the sobbing louder and painful.

"Hello? Phillipa?" Beca walks away to a quiet corner of the station. "What's wrong?"

Fifteen tearful minutes later, she emerges from her corner to grab her bag from the floor. Jesse is watching her, concern for his friend creasing his forehead. She throws her bag on her back as she sighs heavily.

"You need to call Damien," is the only explanation she gives before going over to the booth in the middle of the room, opening the door without knocking.

"Hey!" Luke smiles at her, looking up from one of the screens.

"I'm really sorry but I have to reshedule tonight," she says. "My friend just called and she needs me back home."

His smile falls but he nods in understanding. "Yeah, sure, of course. Don't worry about it. I hope your friend is okay."

"I'm sorry," she says again and quickly rushes out, past a confused Jesse and the heartwrenching crying that still echoes in her ear. Her phone is out again as she speed-walks across campus towards the only Bella she knows has a car to take her to the bus station; Jessica.

"Hey, Jenny?" she says breathlessly into the receiver. "It's Phillipa. She did it, and she needs us."

A pause. "I can leave in an hour."


End file.
